


The Past Won't Remain

by ShadyLantern



Series: Stars At Dawn [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Sex, M/M, Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 43,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadyLantern/pseuds/ShadyLantern
Summary: It hasn't been so long since the inquisitor escaped from the Fade and all the terror it entailed. While on a routine scouting mission however, he finds himself trapped in ancient ruins that seem to hold more nightmares than he could have expected. This time, it's not just demons he needs to fear, but the horrors of the past.
Relationships: Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Series: Stars At Dawn [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906846
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	1. Unpleasant Company

“It just looks like an empty fort, your worship. But it’s so damn quiet…” Krem stood with back straight as he gave his report to the inquisitor, hands clasped behind his back. “We wanted to check into it further, but Dalish said the place… felt odd. Said she felt demonic energy in the area.”

“Rather subdued if it’s a rift,” Cassiel mused, arms crossed as he thought. He glanced to the others, Cullen, Josephine and Leliana gathered around the war table to hear the Chargers’ report. 

“It could be a cult,” Leliana suggested. “A small one hoping to escape notice. Or an intelligent demon, likewise trying to remain unseen. It could be good fortune we found it before it could make a move.”

“We could march in and easily sweep the ruins,” Cullen added, looking to the sketch on the table. One of the chargers had quickly drawn the area, to give them an idea of the layout. “But there would be no way to move in unseen. Forcing them to act before they’re ready could still result in a hell of a lot of deaths.”

“Agreed. I think our best option is to scout it out further. I’ll go back with the Chargers to get a better look.” Cassiel picked up the paper, scanning it over. “These look like they may be elven ruins as well… I’d prefer not to have them further desecrated by demons or cults or whatever the hell is rooming itself there.”

“Should we have any of your inner circle prepare to leave?” Josephine asked. Cassiel shook his head. 

“No, not yet at least. I don’t want to unnerve people by carting half of Skyhold to check out a fort only a day’s travel away.” He turned to Krem, nodding to him. “Get ready to move out. I want to get some distance before the sun sets.”

“Your worship,” he said, bowing and marching back out the door. Cassiel turned back to his advisors. 

“I _do_ want our people prepared to move out in case this turns out to be something dangerous. Make sure nobody’s wandering off or drinking too heavily.” He smirked a little. “Hopefully I’ll be back in a couple days with good news. Or simple news, at least.”

“Yes, inquisitor.” Josephine checked her notes. “Although I do believe Lady Vivienne has some business in Val Royeaux. She may not be back for a week or so.”

“Well, hopefully I won’t be in need of a powerful mage, then. Or at least, two of them.” Cassiel idly considered that Dorian would not be pleased to hear he was being left behind. “All right, you all have your duties. I’ll be heading out as soon as I can. Keep Shyhold safe while I’m gone.”

*****

“Are you serious? You’re going to traipse off to Maker knows where and you expect me to just sit here twiddling my thumbs until you come back?”

Cassiel leaned against the wall, listening to Dorian in amusement as the mage went off. “It’s not ‘maker knows where’, vhenan. It’s old ruins barely a day away from here. I’m just going to check them out and come back. Well, if I end up needing back-up, anyway.”

Dorian sighed, looking out the window for a moment, then stood, stepping closer to the inquisitor. Cassiel looked up at him softly as he stroked over his cheek. “You still aren’t well, amatus,” he said quietly, glancing over the elf’s shoulder. Cassiel was sure any number of souls in the library were looking their way; nothing distracted the populace quite like an elf and a tevinter being publicly affectionate. “You still aren’t sleeping through the night. I’m concerned about you.”

Cassiel smiled to him assuringly, resting a hand over his chest. “You need to rest too, Dorian,” he said, fiddling with one of the straps on his shirt. “I’ll be all right for a couple days on my own. Frankly, getting away from Skyhold will probably be good for me. And the Chargers are good at their job. I’ll be safe.”

Dorian nodded reluctantly. “Just try to be careful, would you?” he said. “I think we both know the odds that something will go wrong.”

Cassiel chuckled, leaning in to kiss the tevinter softly. “I’ll be careful, darling,” he said, stroking over his neck. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone. And try to get some rest, will you?”

Dorian sighed, nodding, then leaned in with a wicked grin. “I will miss the audience our talks gain us,” he whispered, Cassiel sharing a low chuckle with him. He patted him on the cheek, sitting back down in his seat. “Be safe, amatus,” he said, picking up a book with an air of nonchalance. Cassiel gave a mock bow, chuckling a bit as he walked away. 

A wave of rustling and hasty steps met him as the library patrons quickly resumed what they had been doing, trying in vain to pretend they hadn’t been staring at the two. Cassiel ignored them, heading directly to the stables. 

He considered his mission as he crossed Skyhold, absent mindedly nodding to people as he passed, waving as they bowed and murmured greetings. Potential demonic activity did not worry him, not as much as it used to or perhaps should have. Too used to slaughtering them by now. No, the subtlety worried him. Intelligent demons were something to be feared. He twitched as memories flickered in his head, shoving them back out. A small cult would be preferable. He and the Chargers could simply wipe them out on their own, stamp down whatever plans they had been growing, and leave with no further issues. 

He wondered if perhaps he should have brought along more of his inner circle, but in the end shunted it aside as he had before. Such a big group would be noticed approaching the ruins, and since the Chargers had been assigned this mission, he hardly wanted to kick them off of it just to bring in his own people. 

Cassiel finally reached the stables, where a small group of the Chargers were waiting for him, saddled and ready to go. Krem, of course, who was leading the group. Dalish, still insisting she wasn’t a mage, which Cassiel saw no reason to argue with. Grim, silent as ever, and Skinner, who smirked and waved as he approached. 

“Figured a small party would do, your worship,” Krem said, Cassiel watching his mount being led from the stables. “We’re just scouting things out more, right?”

Cassiel nodded, taking the reins of his blue hart, Bel. He rubbed her snout soothingly, whispering to her in elvish before mounting. “I want to get a closer look at these ruins,” he said, addressing the four. “If it’s a rift, you’ll need me there to seal it, though I doubt it, since demons aren’t spilling out the doorway. Still, it has an odd air to it. I want to see it myself before I make a call on how to act.” He nodded to them. “Cremisius knows your group better than I do, so he’s in charge should it come to combat, unless I need to make a call to retreat. Does that sit well with all of you?”

“Your worship, I don’t mind you taking charge,” Krem said, holding up a hand, but Cassiel shook his head. 

“Thank you, but you know everyone’s skills and abilities better than I do. Now let’s head out. We may be able to make half distance before nightfall.”

The Chargers nodded, Cassiel leading the way. His guards saluted stiffly as he passed by through the gateway, quickly urging his hart to speed up across the bridge. He was determined, set on his destination, and the scent of the wilderness caught his nose as they left Skyhold behind. 

They had not been riding long when a shout rang behind them. Cassiel turned his head, hearing the Chargers unsheathe their swords, but calling them to stop when he saw the rider coming towards them. He pulled Bel to a halt, turning to face Platel, the elf slowing as he neared them.

“Cassiel,” he said, pulling his own hart to a stop. The Chargers watched him warily, but sheathed their swords when Cassiel nodded to them. “I’m coming with you.”

“No you are not. That will be the end of it.” He pulled his reins around, gesturing to Krem to keep moving. Platel rode up beside him, grabbing his arm. 

“Yes I am. You think I want demons desecrating elven ruins anymore than you do?”

Cassiel made a face, lip curling. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on me too, have you?”

“I - ”

“Platel, you have not fought a single demon in your entire life. Whatever the hell is going on here, you are not going to be of any help to me.”

“This isn’t battle, it’s a scouting mission!” Platel pointed out. “I’m fast, I’m stealthy. And you hadn’t fought a demon before leaving our clan either, but here you are.”

Cassiel let out a heavy sigh. Aggravated. He clicked to his hart, speeding her up to reach Krem. “Take the Chargers and go on ahead. I’ll follow shortly,” he said briskly. Krem nodded to him, calling to the others. The four kicked their horses on ahead at a gallop, quickly distancing themselves from the two elves. Cassiel scowled at Platel. “All right. What the hell do you want?” 

Platel looked at him in surprise, then his expression twisted angrily. “To help, Cassiel. What I always wanted.”

“Right, yes, to stick your nose in everywhere it’s neither wanted nor asked for.” Cassiel gripped the reins tightly. “And spying on me, apparently! Since the only place I openly discussed this mission was with Dorian, so I presume you were there listening in.” Platel scoffed. Cassiel felt his temper rising. “Your obsession with my tevinter paramour is a little suspicious,” he said mockingly. Platel glared at him. 

“You’re a fucking asshole, Cassie.”

“Really? You’re the one who ambushed me outside the castle.” He gestured to the surrounding wilderness. “And you’re right, I am an asshole. So will you leave now?”

Platel ground his teeth together in frustration. “I just wanted to talk to you,” he growled. “But you’ve been avoiding me ever since I arrived.”

“Avoiding…” Cassiel looked at him in bewilderment. “Beyond that first night you found me on the parapets, when the hell have I avoided you? I haven’t even seen you! Every time I see Dia, she tells me you ‘just left’.”

“Because she’s always hanging out with the tevinter,” he grumbled. Cassiel rolled his eyes. 

“And we’re right back to him.” 

“I don’t care about your bloody!...” Platel took in a deep breath, trying to calm down. Cassiel averted his eyes, still smouldering. “I wanted to talk about _us_ , Cassie.” His voice grew gentler, more like his old self. It made Cassiel want to be sick. “Dia told me how much better you’d gotten since joining the inquisition. Happier. Cheerful. I wanted to see you. I…”

“What we had is seven years gone,” Cassiel said stiffly. Platel sighed. 

“Can’t you at least tell me why?”

“Does it matter?” Cassiel clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked. This was bringing back unpleasant memories. Unpleasant feelings. 

“It matters to me!” Platel barked, temper slipping again. “Because as far as I can see, you just dropped me like old garbage and then popped off to fuck the nearest - ”

“What answer do you think I’m going to give?” Cassiel snapped. Platel threw his hands in the air. 

“I don’t know. That you loved him more than me. That you just wanted me around because I’d fuck you and he wouldn’t.” 

Cassiel froze, stopping Bel in her tracks. Platel stopped a few steps ahead, head down. Cassiel stared at him, feeling his lips curl into a snarl. “Is that what you think,” he said in a low voice. Platel didn’t answer. “You think I needed a fucking sidepiece to compensate for Breele?”

“That wasn’t what I meant,” he said quietly. Cassiel ushered Bel to stand before the elf, glaring at him. 

“I left you because I didn’t want anyone,” he growled venomously. “I didn’t want the touch and comfort of _any_ man. You talk as though you hate me, but you’ve been pining after me for nearly a decade. I don’t know what answer you think I have hidden away, but what could I say that would make you accept this?” Platel still wouldn’t look at him. Cassiel sneered. “Frankly, if it makes you feel better to think I loved Breele more, then believe it. Get back to Skyhold, or go home, but stop following me. And stop stalking Dorian.” 

He heard Platel mutter something angrily but Cassiel ignored him, pushing his hart into a gallop. He hoped deeply Platel wouldn’t come after him again, and was relieved when he didn’t hear hoofbeats behind him. He just pushed on, heading after Krem and the others. His chest was sick with anger, but his eyes burned with tears. One day he would stop having to face this day after day, year after year. One day.


	2. Trapped

Cassiel and the Chargers rode long after the sun set, with the full moon guiding their steps for some hours. Finally however, both they and their mounts were exhausted, so Cassiel called a halt in a clearing. The Chargers set to making camp as the inquisitor saw to their animals, sending them thoughts of empathy and gratitude as he wiped them down and fed them. His expression wrinkled a bit when the Chargers tied their horses down to keep them from wandering away, but said nothing. The animals didn’t seem to mind. Cassiel let his hart stay loose, Bel trotting off into the forest to graze on whatever wild food she could find. 

Krem and the others chatted with each other cheerfully as they did their duties, setting up a fire and cooking a quick meal as others set out bedrolls for sleep. Cassiel enjoyed their company, and wished he could join in, but his mood was still sour. He paced the edge of camp slowly, trying to lose himself in the sounds and smells of nature, but Platel was ever on his mind. Platel, and Breele… 

_“I suppose it’s rich of me to assume Platel could move on when I can’t,”_ he thought to himself bitterly.

“Your worship!” Krem called out. He turned, shaking his thoughts from his head. “Food’s ready.”

“Oh, thank you.” Cassiel quickly settled himself by the fire, taking the proffered bowl from Krem. Some sort of stew, mostly beef with some vegetables chopped up and thrown in. Cassiel had become extremely used to eating soups while travelling with the inquisition. 

“So, who was the sad eyed lad who followed us earlier?” Skinner asked as she set into her own dinner. Krem looked at her quickly, but said nothing. Cassiel smirked. 

“Member of my clan,” he said shortly. “Little too eager to impress, if you know what I mean.”

The others chuckled with him, except Grim, who simply grunted over his meal. “Hoping to show up the inquisitor?” Dalish asked, grinning. Cassiel shrugged. 

“Dalish aren’t really about personal glory… although perhaps you’d know that,” he said, gesturing to her with his spoon. “Hopefully he takes my advice and goes back home. It will burn my ass something fierce if I find him following us again.”

“Not a threat, is he?” Skinner asked, grinning but with a hint of malice in her voice. Cassiel shook his head. 

“No no. Just… In over his head.” As far as he could remember, Platel had never fought anything but animals before. Not bandits, certainly not demons. Platel was a gentle soul, not suited to the bloodiness of combat. Skyhold really wasn’t the place for him. “It would have been nicer if my sister had followed instead,” he added as an afterthought. “Alas.”

“She the tough lookin’ elf your tevinter friend hangs out with?” Skinner asked with a sly grin. Cassiel winked. 

“That would be the one. Keeping an eye on my sister, are you?”

“She came to the bar one day and chatted up the chief,” Krem said with a laugh. “He thought she fancied him. Shot him down real quick. They got along pretty well though.”

Cassiel wished he had been around to see that. Nobody had bothered to try anything with Dia in their clan for years, but it happened at clan meet-ups still, or when visitors came through. He couldn’t really blame them. She was strong, imposing, confident and powerful. But she had no interest in partners. Never had, never would. There were times when he had envied that simplicity. 

The five idly chatted for a little longer while they finished up their meals before finally cleaning up and getting ready to sleep. Krem set up a watch cycle, taking first for himself, and Cassiel dropped himself down on his bedroll wearily. He looked to the stars, eyelids growing heavy, hoping he wouldn’t have a nightmare. They were becoming less frequent, and less violent, but the possibility was still there. 

_“I swear to the gods if I wake up to find Platel here, I’m going to strangle him.”_

*****

They made good time the following day, quickly packing up camp and setting off toward the elven ruins. They kept up a steady pace, Cassiel often ranging out further ahead to keep an eye out for danger. It was nice to be away from Skyhold, and away from his usual inquisitor duties. He felt like a regular scout back in his clan, roaming free from the group and enjoying the wilderness. The forest was beautiful here, the flora and fauna untouched by people. He wondered if any dalish clans had once lived here. The forest seemed expansive enough to hide a clan. Though there were human cities within a few days travel from here, so perhaps not. 

The hours passed uneventfully, Cassiel letting his mind drift, listening to the animals and feeling their brief thoughts and emotions as they passed. For a time, he could feel… free. Unburdened. He thought back to his clan, wondering what they were up to. It would be almost time to migrate, he thought. Another month, perhaps. Dia and Platel would have to head back soon to catch them before they began moving north. He thought of his family, his mother and fathers, his younger sisters. Were they thinking of him?

He jolted from his reverie, pulling Bel to a halt roughly. The hart gave a low whine, but Cassiel didn’t notice, brow furrowing. A sudden silence had fallen over his mind. It took him a few moments to realise what had happened; there were no animals ahead. He patted Bel gently on the neck, whispering to her, and felt the unease in her mind. She felt something, then. He ushered her on ahead, letting her walk forward slowly. 

She didn’t walk far before stopping again. Cassiel peered through the trees, scanning the area, then caught sight of it: a pillar of rock, wholly unnatural to the area. He climbed off Bel’s back, stroking her flank before skirting on ahead on foot. He wanted to get closer before heading back to the Chargers. 

He crouched about a hundred feet away behind a thick row of brush, looking out at the ruins. Mostly dilapidated and grown over from years abandoned in the trees, the few pillars left standing crumbling and falling away. Trees grew here and there between cracked stone flooring, tall and strong with centuries of unimpeded growth. Almost hidden by the wild taking back over was a stone entrance, pitch black and dipping down. No other buildings still existed, if they ever had, so the fort itself must have been built underground. He made a face. He really did not care to be under the earth. 

He didn’t think this was a cult. Even were they trying to remain hidden, they would have had to clear away some of the vines and bushes growing over everything. Plus, he could feel no animals anywhere near it, which typically meant red lyrium, demon activity, or both. And if they had brought their own red lyrium, they would have needed to cart it in, but there was no sign of horses or tracks or anything. Just… silence and stillness. If Dalish hadn’t said she felt something, they might have passed right over this place. 

He’d seen enough. Cassiel headed back to Bel, the hart more than happy to trot off away from the ruins back toward the Chargers. He considered his options, to go back to Skyhold and return with more men or further scout out the ruins. He had a bad feeling about the place, that was true, but that could have been the unnatural feel of it, with no animals anywhere nearby. And he still didn’t want to come charging in with enough men to alert the entire countryside. 

He’d made up his mind by the time he reached Krem and the others, slowing Bel to a halt before them. Krem held up a hand to greet him with a murmured “Your worship”. Cassiel would give most anything to stop the fellow from calling him that. 

“I saw the ruins up ahead,” Cassiel said. He took a moment to compile his thoughts. “It’s… definitely odd. It looks like no one’s been there for centuries.” He focused on Dalish. “You’re sure you felt something there?”

Dalish nodded, glancing past him for a moment then meeting his eyes. “Yes… A strange energy to the air. Like the veil rippling. And…” She hesitated before adding, “And no animals… No animals near it. Did you notice?”

Cassiel nodded. “I did.” He gestured for the Chargers to follow, the five heading back toward the abandoned fort. “Do you have any suspicions what could be causing what you’re feeling? The magical part,” Cassiel asked. Dalish shook her head. 

“Not really… besides demons. I couldn’t pin it down exactly, it’s not something I usually have to do.” She cleared her throat, looking awkward that her ‘non magical’ facade was slipping. 

“All right. Well, without much to go on, I think we’re going to scout it out ourselves.” Cassiel looked to Krem. “As in, we’re going to go inside the ruins themselves. Are you all right with that?”

“Oh course, your worship,” Krem said with a grin. “We may not be quite as experienced in demon wrangling as you are, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t willing to face ‘em down.”

Cassiel chuckled, nodding. “Glad to hear it.” 

They fell silent for the rest of the journey, Cassiel and Krem heading the team of five. Cassiel was paying rapt attention to the animals around them. Outside of the boundaries of the ruins, nothing felt off or unusual. The animals felt calm, at peace in their surroundings. Except to avoid the fort, they did not seem bothered. It meant little more than that whatever was inside the ruins had not come out to make trouble. 

Bel made a low whine, slowing. Cassiel patted her on the neck, turning to the other as their horses halted, whickering uneasily. “We’ll leave the animals and go on ahead on foot,” Cassiel said, dismounting the hart. “Leave them saddled, we may need to go in a hurry.” 

Krem nodded, the Chargers dismounting and tying their horses down. Cassiel ran a hand down Bel’s snout, whispering soothing words to her. He didn’t like asking her to be here, when she was so clearly uncomfortable. But the need was there, and she agreed, despite the difficulty. He thanked her, patting her neck and turning to the others as they stepped beside him. He nodded, and took the lead, sneaking carefully through the trees toward the ruins. 

Thankfully the Chargers were fairly quiet, though he did wince as leaves and twigs crunched underfoot. He had been saddled with much heavier footed people before. He led the four to the brush he had hidden behind before, ushering them to his side to examine the ruins together. 

Dalish shivered. “Still that feeling,” she murmured. Cassiel nodded, looking to Krem. 

“Only one way in,” he said under his breath. 

“Cuts down enemy retreat, but it does mean they could put all their defenses right there,” Krem replied, nodding. “If it comes to battle, numbers won’t matter much if we get funneled in the entrance.”

“Most ruins open up further in, but you’re right.” Cassiel rubbed his chin. “Here’s the plan: we’ll approach as a group, but I’ll enter the ruins first. If there’s traps or anything, I’m likely the best suited to find them. I want you four to stay far back enough that if something goes off, it won’t catch all of us at once.”

“That’s a big risk, your worship,” Krem pointed out. Cassiel smirked. 

“That’s why I’m taking it. Let’s go.” 

Cassiel hopped over the brushes deftly, landing lightly and skirting ahead. Krem hung back as he asked, following behind a few seconds later. Cassiel crept along, feeling more exposed as he got nearer. That stone door’s entranceway seemed to yawn ever wider, a dark abyss in the center of the forest. 

“Inquisitor!!”

Krem’s panicked voice rang out behind him, Cassiel spinning on the spot, dagger in his hand. His eyes widened when he saw the silvery sheen between them, running back as Krem swung at it with his sword. 

The weapon flung back over his head, Krem cursing and holding his hand painfully. Cassiel skidded to a halt a few inches from the barrier, looking at it warily. Dalish, Skinner and Grim crept closer, staring at it in bewilderment. 

“What happened?” Cassiel asked, steadying his voice as Krem retrieved his weapon from the ground. 

“Shit. I don’t know.” He sheathed the sword angrily, traipsing back to look at the barrier. Cassiel touched it gingerly, biting back a curse when it zapped his finger. “It just flew up behind you as you ran. Like you set off some sort of trigger.” 

Cassiel scanned the area quickly. He could see the barrier surrounded himself and the ruins in a dome shape, completely sealing him in. He turned back to the Chargers, thinking. 

“Can you take it down, Dalish?” Krem asked, turning to the elf. She stared at it a few seconds longer, but shook her head. 

“No… No, I don’t think so. The magic is so interwoven into itself… I can’t even tell where it begins or ends.”

“Shit,” Skinner spat. “Our first mission with the inquisitor and we got him killed. Bloody brilliant.”

“Shut up Skinner, by the Maker.” Krem shook his head. “Just bloody focus on how we’re going to get him out of there.”

“One of you is going back to Skyhold,” Cassiel said finally, drawing eyes back to him. “Just one of you, whoever can ride the fastest. Take Bel; she can outrun any of your horses.” He glanced behind him, ever aware of how vulnerable he was at this moment. He turned back to the Chargers. “And listen to me carefully, because I don’t want a panic: report to Iron Bull as if it’s a normal mission update. He knows how to be subtle. Get him to bring Dorian here, and Vivienne, if by some luck she’s already returned. And Cassandra as well. If something happens to me, she’ll need to make a call on what to do next.” 

“I’ll go,” Dalish offered. Krem nodded to her. She looked to Cassiel quickly. “Will your hart be all right with me riding her?”

“I already told her, in a manner of speaking.” He could feel Bel’s thoughts against his own. He had raised her from a fawn, travelled with her for years. She trusted him, and she worried. But she would do as he asked. He turned his attention back to Dalish. “Remember what I said. No one else is to know. We still need to figure out what the hell is going on here, and I don’t want half of Skyhold storming the ruins.”

“Yes, inquisitor,” she said with a nod. She hurried off, back to their mounts. Cassiel watched her go, taking a deep breath. He looked to the others, Krem sighing in frustration. 

“I’m sorry, your worship,” the tevinter said, looking to the elf. “I shouldn’t have let you go on ahead like that.”

Cassiel smirked, shaking his head. “Now now, I’m not fragile. I chose to take this risk, and frankly I prefer being stuck in here myself instead of staring in at one of you.” He crossed his arms, scanning over the barrier once more. “I’ve been in worse circumstances. As long as Dalish hurries, I’ll have my mages back here in no time, and they can take this barrier down.” Hopefully. He really wished Vivienne had not chosen this time to leave Skyhold. Between her and Dorian, he had no doubt they could shatter the barrier. Dorian on his own, he was less certain. 

He supposed he could have asked to bring Solas, but he didn’t have the raw power the other two did. And Cassiel didn’t particularly trust Solas to remain subtle about Cassiel’s situation. It was hardly as if they got along. Cassiel glanced to the entrance of the fort, thinking.

“All right,” he said after a moment, turning back to the remaining Chargers. “This isn’t going to make you happy, but I’m going inside the ruins.” Krem stared at him incredulously. Cassiel continued before he could protest. “I know it’s a trap, but seeing as how I’ve already sprung it, whatever captured me already has me at its mercy. Out here I have no cover, no way to fight back if I’m overwhelmed. But whatever caused this barrier could be inside the ruins, and I have a chance of being able to bring it down before the others even get here.”

“We don’t know what’s in there, inquisitor,” Krem pointed out. “There could be more traps, worse traps. If something happens, we won’t be able to help you unless - until - we can bring down the barrier.”

“The risk is the same staying out here, except you’ll get to see the gorey details,” Cassiel said with wry amusement. “And hell, if I’m extremely lucky, maybe it’ll turn out this is just some ancient elven enchantment and I just have to switch it off. Problem solved.”

“I’m not sure our luck stretches so far,” Skinner muttered. Grim grunted. Cassiel shrugged. 

“Just stay nearby. If I somehow get the barrier down, I may be coming back out in a hurry.” He chuckled, turning away. 

He didn’t bother sneaking the rest of the way toward the fort, with all the commotion they had made, though he watched his steps carefully in case further traps awaited him. His eyes rose to the entrance down into the ruins, and that uneasy feeling fell on him again. This could be a huge mistake. But he refused to sit idle, waiting for whatever lay within to come out and slaughter him mere feet away from his companions. 

_“Dorian is never going to let me out of his sight again after this.”_

He smirked to himself, sighing, and made his way inside the ruins.


	3. Illusions and Falsehoods

“So the first mission I let you guys leave with the inquisitor, and you get him stuck behind an impassable barrier?” Iron Bull sighed, a long heavy breath. “Damn it Dalish, we’re never gonna get a job again after this.”

“Is that _really_ what’s important right now?” Cassandra said irritably. “We need to get going immediately, before he gets killed by… whatever the hell is in those ruins.” She kicked roughly at the stone flooring. “Bloody hell, Lavellan is going to take twenty years off my life, I swear.” 

“Well, you get the horses ready to go. Make sure you find one that can carry me, okay?” Bull said, chuckling. “And put a damn smile on, would you? No point in all this subterfuge if you storm out of here looking pissed off.”

“I am not smiling. That would just make me even more suspicious.” She clicked her tongue, crossing her arms. “And you’re going to get Dorian, then?”

“Yeah, we’ll meet you at the stables. Oh, and by the way,” he added as he headed toward the door. “Don’t be surprised if Dia ends up meeting you along the way.”

“Dia? Cassiel’s sister?”

“Yeah. She’s been watching us like hawks since Dalish got back.” He gestured to the elf. “Go with Cassandra. I’ll be along soon.”

Iron Bull stepped out from the weapon storage building, striding away easily toward the castle. He was pretty sure he would find the tevinter up in the library. Never had much cause to be there, himself. Besides, the damn place was cramped and tiny for a man his size, even if he had desperately wanted to read all the dusty boring literature the inquisition could scrounge up. 

He could feel eyes on him as he neared the library, though that was mostly his imposing stature. He grinned at the people watching him, winking at some of the cute girls and smirking when they scrambled away giggling. He always did have a way with the ladies. Some of the boys too. 

Bull definitely garnered even more stares when he entered the library, but this time sneers as well. Certainly not a welcome party waiting for him. He made his way along, ignoring the stares and trying not to be too obvious he was searching for someone, though he doubted anyone really thought he was here to read. Hell, he was sure many of them didn’t think he _could_ read, being a savage qunari and all. He snorted to himself, then stopped when he caught sight of the tevinter he’d come in for. 

The man was seated by a window, a thick book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. He was so engrossed he didn’t even notice Iron Bull approaching until he was right on top of him. 

“Shit! - ” The mage nearly dropped both his book and wine glass, scowling at the qunari. “Say a damn word, would you?” he hissed, composing himself. Iron Bull chuckled. “What do you want? I’ve never seen you in here before.”

Iron Bull knelt down to bring himself level with Dorian’s eyes. “Try not to overreact when I say this,” he said quietly, still grinning. The mage raised a brow, looking at him oddly. “Cassiel got stuck behind some sort of magical barrier. I said _don’t overreact_ damn it.” Dorian cursed quietly, trying to smooth over his face. “We need you to come with us to try and take the damn thing down. He’s stuck inside the ruins.”

“Fasta vass,” he murmured. He glanced over Bull’s shoulder, then back to the qunari. “Maker, don’t tell me you want me to follow you,” he said, a wry grin drawing over his face. “The amount of eyes on us, I’m going to come back to the rumour that the moment the inquisitor was gone, I ran off to fuck the qunari.”

Iron Bull chuckled, shrugging. “Well, the boss wants this on the downlow so there isn’t a panic, so we may have to let them believe that.”

Dorian sighed, closing his book and dropping it on the shelf beside him. He quickly drained the rest of his wine glass, placing that down as well. “Let’s get to it then,” he said briskly. Iron Bull straightened, leading the way back out of the library. Immediately he could see - and hear - Dorian was right, a cascade of whisperings following them as they left. 

*****

Something about this passageway wasn’t right. 

Cassiel trailed his hand along the stone wall as he walked, descending deeper into the ruins. He had seen no other hallways, no other features. No paintings, no scratching. His steps echoed loudly, the only sound his ears picked up. How long had he been walking now?

No torches. He paused midstep, looking to the wall, and his hand on it. He was too far from the entranceway for there to be enough light for him to see, even with his elven vision. He turned his head, looking back up the stairs in confusion. He couldn’t see the exit from here, disappearing into darkness. His brow furrowed, looking ahead again, and jerked violently when he saw the passage level out two steps down. 

Cassiel took in a slow, deep breath, closing his eyes. The stairs had been without end, he was sure of it. So what was he seeing now? He opened his eyes slowly, somewhat relieved to see the end of the staircase still there. He stepped down warily, looking down this new hallway. Various doorways led off from it, sealed with wooden doors, and several feet ahead opened up into a wider room that was somehow too dark to see. 

Cassiel glanced to the walls in confusion. Still no torches. Was there some sort of ambient light source he was missing? He stepped forward, approaching the closest door, reaching out for the metal handle. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he spun around, dagger in hand. Nothing was there. Obviously. Cassiel eyed the hallway slowly, relaxing somewhat but not putting the dagger away. Something in here felt wrong. Unnatural. He was starting to consider going right back up the stairs and out of this place. 

He shook his head, turning back to the door. Nothing had even happened. Just a creepy staircase and empty halls. He grabbed the handle, pulling the door open. 

A vibrant, sprawling forest met his eyes. He slammed the door shut, breathing hard. Okay. All right. That shouldn’t be here. He looked behind him quickly, but still saw no one there. He stared back hard at the door. Maybe he had… mistaken what he had seen. Perhaps it was simply an old greenery room that had overgrown itself. He took in another breath, then opened the door once more. 

The same forest revealed itself once more, glinting in the sunlight. Cassiel looked up to the ceiling, eyes widening when he saw clear blue skies. He looked back to the trees, hearing birds chirping, insects buzzing. His eyes turned down, to the long grasses and flowers growing from the earth. What… was happening here. 

_“Am I hallucinating? Is a demon making me see this?”_ Could they even do that without him entering their realm? Had he somehow entered without noticing? Was that possible? Cassiel pushed the door shut again, turning away toward the staircase. He was in over his head. He needed to leave. 

His gaze fell on a blank stone wall instead of an exit. He swallowed hard, feeling sweat bead on his brow. All right. He touched the stone gingerly, then pushed. It didn’t move. If it was a hallucination, it was a damn good one. He looked over his shoulder, turning his back on the wall. 

_“Dorian is most definitely never going to let me leave his sight again.”_

*****

“So what exactly are we walking into, then?” Dorian asked as the four saddled their horses. Well, Dalish still had Cassiel’s hart ready to go, the blue animal prancing in place impatiently. No one else was in the stable, so it was as good a time as any to get real answers out of Bull and Cassandra. 

The seeker scowled as she worked. “The inquisitor set off some sort of magical trap around the ruins,” she explained, tightening the saddle. “A powerful barrier has sealed him in, and he needs a powerful mage to bring it down.”

Dorian grinned, stroking over his chin, but he couldn’t belay the nerves inside him. It would have taken Dalish nearly a full day to get back here, and it would take another to reach the ruins. Cassiel was sealed inside that barrier with the Maker only knew what for two days. Dorian cursed to himself as he pulled himself into the saddle. He was never going to let that foolish elf leave his sight ever again. 

“So my brother is trapped in magical demon ruins, and you’re not going to tell me?”

Dorian looked up in surprise, Cassandra cursing when she saw the elf standing in the doorway. Iron Bull laughed, clapping the seeker on the back. “What did I tell you?” he said, chuckling. He waved to Dia, though the elf did not look amused, stepping inside with her arms crossed. 

“I’m sorry Dia, but Cassiel asked for us only,” Cassandra said, Dorian grinning at how she tried so damn hard to be diplomatic. “And we needed to get moving immediately. I didn’t think to - ”

“Well, I saddled Ana while you were talking, so I’m ready to go,” Dia said shortly. She gestured out the door, Dorian catching sight of the purple hart she had arrived in Skyhold with. “I’m sure Cassiel has his political bullshit to concern himself with, but I’m not going to leave him in trouble because he didn’t ask for me specifically.”

Cassandra sighed, but nodded. Dorian doubted they could have stopped Dia without tying her down, and even then. The three mounted their horses, Cassandra leading the way toward the gate. Dia was right behind them, the hart keeping up to them easily. 

Dorian dropped back to her as they rode out of Skyhold, trotting across the bridge. “So you heard everything?” he called to her. Dia smirked a bit, nodding. He put on a smug smile. “You know, _I_ would have told you, had it been up to me.”

“Oh I’m sure you would have, lethallen.” Dia looked on ahead, expression furrowing. “Tell me something,” she added after a moment. “Does my brother ever go a week without getting himself into trouble?”

“Not in all the time I have known him,” Dorian said with a chuckle. “He is a magnet for danger.”

“I - ” 

Cassandra reined her horse in hard, the rest of them yanking themselves to a rough halt. She whipped out her sword, staring down an elf that had come racing out of the woods on a brown hart. Dorian sighed as he recognised Platel, the man stopping several feet away. 

“Why the hell do you humans always pull out your weapons when you see me?” he said in annoyance. Dia pressed forward, Cassandra glancing to her. 

“Maybe you should approach in a less aggressive manner,” she said wryly. “Platel, what are you doing out here?”

“Wait, I recognise you,” Cassandra said, slowly putting her sword away. “You’re the elf always stalking about in the castle. Leliana had to tell our guards not to arrest you.”

“Stalk?...” Platel snorted, shaking his head. “For gods’ sake…”

“Look, we don’t really have time for this,” Iron Bull interrupted. “Just bring him with us, it’s obviously what he approached us for. He’s… friends with the inquisitor.” Dorian glanced to Iron Bull, seeing the sly smirk on his face. Platel looked much less amused. “He’s not dangerous, and we can’t afford to waste the time arguing.”

Cassandra sighed in frustration. “Very well. You are right, we don’t have the time to waste on this.” She nodded to Platel, kicking her horse forward again. “Follow if you must, but keep up. We have a long way to go.”

Platel looked even more annoyed that they seemed to have made the decision without him, but followed along at Dia’s side regardless. Dorian tried not to chuckle at his expression, though he still wished the man was not coming. He himself really felt nothing toward the elf, but Platel clearly hated him, and it made talking to Dia much more difficult when she had to referee between the two. For her part, Dia also seemed annoyed at his appearance. 

“What the hell were you doing out here already, Platel?” she said angrily as they continued on. Dorian stayed nearby, since she hadn’t shooed him away. Platel grit his teeth. 

“I needed time alone,” he grumbled. Dia glared at him. 

“You’re lying to me and I’m sick of it.” Dorian was surprised at the venom in her voice. Platel looked surprised too. “Once more: what were you doing out here?”

“I… wanted to go with Cassiel,” he said quietly. He didn’t look at the two of them. “I was hoping to have time to speak with him or… I don’t know. Cassiel didn’t want me to go.” Dia sighed, long and aggravated. Platel looked to her. “So what’s happened to him, then? There must be a reason you’re all going out there.”

“He’s trapped in the ruins,” she said shortly. Platel growled under his breath. 

“I knew I should have gone,” he snarled. “Trust a bunch of shems and false elves to - ”

“So I suppose you can take down magical barriers, then?” Dorian asked lightly, smiling when the elf shot him an angry look. “An impressive skill to have, especially in the non-magical. Though I am curious as to how you do it.”

“Shut up, tevinter,” he snapped. “It’s not like you were with him either. What kind of man leaves his partner to face danger alone anyway?”

“One who doesn’t assume their partner is fragile,” Dorian said with a smirk, though the remark had dug at him somewhat. He didn’t even know for sure he could take down the barrier once he was there, but had he been there to begin with, he might have sensed the trap. Still, he refused to let Platel see his guilt. “Frankly, Cassiel has been in much worse situations before.”

He could see the elf sneer when he said the inquisitor’s name. Dorian started to wonder just what Cassiel had ever seen in the man, though according to Dia, he was normally a very gentle person. 

He had a feeling this journey was going to feel a hell of a lot longer than a single day.


	4. Bygone Memories

Despite the fact that he was exhausted, Dorian still felt restless stopping that night. 

They had pushed their animals hard to make more the half the distance toward the ruins. But with the deepening night and their mounts growing fatigue, Cassandra had reluctantly called a halt for a few hours rest. Dorian wandered on the edge of the camp, stretching his legs awkwardly as he plucked sticks and bits of wood for a fire. Everything below his waist was sore from riding a horse for hours. He had no idea how the others made horseback riding seem so natural. 

A hand shoved him hard into a tree, Dorian’s fingers alighting with lightning even before he realised it was Platel holding him in place. The elf’s brown eyes glinted and reflected the magical energy. Dorian didn’t let it dissipate, simply meeting his hard stare. 

“We’re talking while Dia isn’t here to step in,” he growled. Dorian grinned, raising a brow. 

“Oh, I wonder what about.”

“Just shut your smart mouth,” Platel snapped. Dorian watched him, daring the elf to make a move. He was more than happy to show the fellow that he was not a mage to mess with. “I don’t trust you, tevinter. I don’t know why the hell Cassie does, but I know you’re up to something. If I find out - ”

“By Andraste, I wish you bastards would find something new to accuse me with,” Dorian said, rolling his eyes. “It’s always the same thing. The nasty tevinter blood mage corrupting the inquisitor with his greedy filthy hands, using his terrifying influence to make him ally with tevinter or summon demons or whatever the blazed hell the rumour of the day is.” He let out a long, dramatic breath. “Call me evil if you must, just get some new material.”

“You think this is funny?” Platel hissed. Dorian sighed, then finally pushed the elf off him, the lightning around his hand flaring when Platel made to step back toward him. 

“Listen, this entire thing between us has been very cute, but it’s definitely gotten old.” He crossed his arms, letting the smirk fall from his face. “The same with your precious victim game. If Dia doesn’t care and Cassiel doesn’t care - why do you do that with your face every time I say his name?”

Platel sneered at him, but looked away. “His name sounds disgusting from shemlen lips,” he said darkly. Dorian raised a brow. How very dramatic. Platel glowered at him again. “I swear, if I find out you’re using blood magic or something to - ”

“I’m not scared of you, Platel.” He said it firmly, gaze unwavering. Platel stared at him hard. “If nothing else I say penetrates that thick skull, let it be that. You don’t scare me. You don’t even worry me. You’re just an annoyance. Don’t think for a second you could beat me in a fight.” 

Platel looked shocked when he said that. Dorian smiled a little. Leaves rustling turned both their heads, Platel stepping back when Dia walked into the open. The woman looked between them coolly. 

“So glad Platel came to help you get firewood,” she said icily. She gestured to the fallen pile on the ground. “Bring it back to camp now, would you?” she said, addressing the elf. Platel quickly gathered up the branches, hurrying away. Dorian watched him go, finally letting the lightning dissipate from his hand. Apparently even Platel knew when he had pushed his luck too far. Dia looked back to Dorian, gaze softening. “Are you all right?”

Dorian chuckled, patting her on the arm. “Of course, my dear. Shall we head back?”

*****

Cassiel didn’t know what to think of this place, whether it be some strange ancient elven magic or demon realm he had unwittingly fallen into. 

After the first door had unveiled an entire forest and sky, Cassiel had moved on to the next, revealing yet more trees, but different ones, the sky reddened with sunset. This one gave him pause; he recognised it. He squinted, peering through the thick brush. He could swear this was the summer home of his clan. 

He shut the door slowly, turning to the next down the hall. The wide opening at the end of the passage still beckoned to him, but even as he drew closer it was too dark to see within. He watched it curiously, slowly pulling open another door. 

Cold swept over him, an icy chill settling on him. He peered inside, and his eyes widened. A wide open cavern, dug deep into the earth, filled with crates, barrels… and elves. And this time there was no mistaking it: he knew this cave, and he knew these elves. This was his clan’s den. This was when they had been forced to stay in place for the winter, and crammed themselves into the cave for warmth and shelter. He stepped inside, eyes darting over everything. Nobody reacted to his presence, or the door that had seemingly appeared in the wall. 

He walked through the den slowly, hearing quiet murmurings and the occasional cough of the sick. Families were huddled together, blankets thrown up on stakes to give some sense of privacy. The few people he could see were thin, starving. He looked to the entrance, where a number of animal skins had been hung to block the worst of the winter winds. His clan had never before wintered in his lifetime. It had been a choice out of desperation, after an illness had swept though them, leaving them weakened and unprepared for the long journey north. If not for the strength and tenacity of his people, that choice could have wiped them all out. 

He made his way to the corner of the cave, spying the familiar blanket thrown up there. He had been the one to put it there. He hesitated as he reached it, taking a slow breath, before stepping around to look. 

Breele lay there, bundled in furs and attempting to sleep. Cassiel felt tears burn his eyes, seeing his young husband’s face. He was thin, but still handsome. Still beautiful. Cassiel knelt down before him, touching his cheek, his hand seeming to phase right through him. Breele…

Footsteps brought him back to reality, and his eyes widened to see himself pull back the blanket. Himself, but younger, his face smooth and unscarred. And horribly, horrendously gaunt. Cassiel knew the famine had hit him hard, but now he could see why Breele had worried about him so much. 

“I’m back, vhenan,” his clone said in a hoarse voice. Breele opened his eyes, looking up to him. He began unbuttoning the long jacket he wore, soaked now that the snow coating it was melting. “We found nothing,” he said, his voice sounding all the more hollow. “We’ll be trying again tonight.”

“My love…” Breele faltered when Cassiel hung up his shirt and jacket, revealing how tightly his skin hugged his bones. “When did you last eat?” 

“Others are worse off than me,” Cassiel said wearily, kicking off his pants and hastily pulling on another pair. His younger self flopped down heavily on their bed of blankets, and Cassiel winced, almost wondering how his bones didn’t creak when he hit the ground. Breele wrapped an arm around him. 

“That’s not what I asked, sweetheart. I said when did you last eat?”

Cassiel smiled at that gentle tone, watching his gaunter self sigh. “I would guess a couple days. Vhenan,” he said when Breele got up. “I’ll be all right, please just come rest with me.”

“You need to eat just like everyone else, Cassie. Especially as one of our hunters. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Breele left without another word. Cassiel looked back to the elf on the bed in wonder. He barely remembered this winter beyond the constant gnawing hunger that tugged at his whole self, the fatigue and endless scanning of a dead white forest. 

As Breele reentered something seemed to shift. Cassiel blinked, and now his past self was seated upright, against the wall. He looked as drawn and exhausted as ever, but slightly more filled out. He remembered now that Breele had been making sure he ate on the daily, even if it was very little. His hands shook on his legs, Breele wrapped around him gently. 

“... I wish I hadn’t done it. Gods, I wish I hadn’t done it.” He pressed a fist to his forehead, quivering. “I was just so desperate, I don’t want to die, I don’t want any of us to die…” Breele shushed him quietly, running a hand over his short hair soothingly. “I could have cursed us in the eyes of our gods, using my… my gifts like that…”

“They’ll understand, Cassie. They’ll forgive you.” 

“I don’t think I’m ready to be forgiven…”

Breele held his head gently to his chest, letting the elf sob into his shirt. Cassiel let out a long breath as he watched, feeling guilt in his heart. He remembered this, of course. When, out of desperation, he had used his gift with animals to call a deer close to him… and then killed it. It’s terrified and confused cries in his mind tormented him. Hunting was always a difficult but necessary task for him. To have tricked an animal to its death was a cruelty he still struggled with. His clan could have survived the winter had he not. But more people would have died. They needed to eat. And in a moment of desperation, he betrayed one of his animal brothers. 

Only Breele knew of it. Cassiel was sure his clan would have forgiven him as well, though doubtless some would have frowned upon his methods. He had acted out of pure need for the clan. But Cassiel didn’t want anyone else to know. 

He wasn’t sure if it was an appropriate reaction, or his animal sensitivity that made him feel that way. But he was still sure it had been a cruel thing to do, even if it wasn’t necessarily wrong. He stood, not wanting to watch this any longer. 

The cave wavered before him, fading. Cassiel blinked, jerking in shock to see himself in a small stone room. He spun on the spot, eyes darting over everything. It was completely empty, no furniture or paintings, not even a loose pebble. His brow furrowed. Of course, he had known the cave wasn’t _real_ , but he was still surprised to see it all vanish. And what had been the point? Just to view something difficult and painful?

He hoped this wasn’t another bloody nightmare realm. Though that memory wasn’t nearly as traumatic. Just… bothersome. Cassiel stepped back out the open door, kicking it shut. 

He looked back at the doors he had already opened. Were all of these pockets of his memories? Was he meant to go through them? Perhaps this was elven magic, and these ruins had been some sort of strange test. Something to face difficult moments in life. In that case, the only way out would be to face them all. But then what? It wasn’t like he had accomplished anything so far. All he had done was view a shitty winter he had lived through. 

He let out a long breath, wishing Dorian were here. Or hell, anyone who could tell him what this magical bullshit was. Even Solas would be welcome at this point. How long had it been since he entered? He didn’t feel hungry or thirsty. Maybe a little tired. He looked to the doors again, then sighed, walking toward the first one. If this was a test, better to get it over with sooner rather than later. 

He pulled it open, once again looking upon the trees and bright blue sky. He stepped inside, looking around curiously. Something about it was vaguely familiar, but he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t either of his clan’s migration destinations. He walked deeper into the trees, looking back to see the doorway still remained where it had opened, as though cut through the air. He kept walking, ears perked. 

Screams rang out, the screams of two young elves, and a sudden sick feeling crashed over his mind. All at once he knew what had been familiar about this place, and he raced toward the screams. That sick shrieking in his mind was almost overpowering, the will and terror behind it immense. 

He jerked back as two children raced past him, screaming. And right behind them, a massive black behemoth, a cave bear. A long tear across his eye leaked pus and blood, and a stake of wood jutted from his shoulder, swollen with infection. Its mind was senseless with pain and delirium, driving it to violence, and Cassiel’s young sisters had been caught in the crossfire. Ilya stumbled trying to jump over the thick brush, tangling herself in its branches and shrieking as the bear crashed toward her. 

A blur streaked past them, swinging a spear into the bear’s face with a loud _crack_. It was himself again, a teenager, holding only a now-broken short spear and his bow, wearing no armour but only a vest and breeches. He was in training to be a hunter, he was no fighter, but the danger was immediate and he had jumped in. The bear thrashed about, roaring a terrible liquid bellow that flung drool several feet. 

Cassiel drew an arrow, firing at the bear in a panic as it turned back to him. “Run!!” he shouted to his little sisters, but the two were frozen in terror, holding each other and screaming as the mad monster charged the young elf. Cassiel fired once more, barely ducking out of the way of the huge creature, his arrow thunking uselessly into its back. He didn’t dodge the second swing, the bear’s paw sending him flying, his quiver scattering arrows all over the ground. 

He pushed himself to all fours awkwardly. If he remembered correctly, that hit had knocked his shoulder blade out of place. The bear was on top of him before he could react, teeth tearing into his back. The scream of pain that drew out made his stomach lurch, touching his shoulder unconsciously. The feeling of teeth tearing through flesh and muscle into bone. The bear flung him aside, and he slammed down on his back, choking in pain. 

Pure luck saved him that day, as the bear pounced him once more, and Cassiel found an arrow in his hand and thrust as the bear’s jaws snapped open. His arm sunk into its maw, arrow splitting through the roof of its mouth and into its maddened brain. The bear collapsed atop him, finally dead, its pain at an end. 

The teen elf yanked his arm back out, covered in blood and drool. Ilya and Tinx, his sisters, crept out when the bear moved no more. 

“Cassie?...” Tinx said softly. The elf struggled to breathe under the immense weight of the thing. 

“Get… mom. Okay?” he forced out. Tinx ran off immediately, screaming for their mother. Ilya crouched next to him, sobbing. Cassiel wanted to comfort her, but he was in too much pain. 

The older Cassiel sighed, watching the scene a while longer. That wound never healed properly, and still troubled him to this day. He had spent a month laying flat on his belly in the healer’s tent, being fed nasty concoctions to keep him from catching the bear’s illness, as well as any infections its teeth could have given him. When he was finally healed enough to continue his training, he found things just didn’t seem to be in the right place anymore. He could fight and shoot and lift like anyone else, but the pain would steadily grow over time. He had eventually found a combination of elfroot and having the area massaged kept it… comfortable. It had frustrated him immensely at the time, but with effort and some gritted teeth, he had gotten his strength back. No one need be the wiser to his weakness.

Cassiel turned away, wondering if he’d have to go back to the door in the trees, but the forest faded just like the cave, leaving him in an exact copy of the stone room he had just left. He sighed, rubbing his head. He felt very tired all of a sudden. 

He walked back out the open door, looking to the next one. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go through with this. Living out bad memories one at a time. Seeing his own self suffer and get torn apart. His fists clenched, wondering if any of these doors held his memories of Breele’s death. He wasn’t sure he could live through that again. 

Cassiel looked to the dark, wide open room at the end of the hall. He began walking toward it, ears perked for danger. Maybe he didn’t need to go through all of this. Perhaps there was another way out of these ruins, or a way to shut down the barrier. 

He grew more tense as he approached, noticing the darkness never seemed to recede. He stopped midstep a few feet from it, brow furrowed. It wasn’t darkness, or not true darkness. It seemed to be… a solid wall. He reached out to touch it, but stopped, remembering the barrier outside. He studied the darkness closely, letting his hand drop. If he had to guess, it was a magical construct. He stepped back a bit further, taking out a dagger and tossing it through the doorway. 

It flew straight through and into the dark. He clicked his tongue in frustration, starting forward, but freezing when he realised he never heard it hit the ground. He let out a long breath, scratching his head in annoyance. He was most definitely never going anywhere again without some sort of magical consultant. He felt as though he were fumbling blindly in here. He turned away, looking to the remaining doors and growling in his chest. 

Couldn’t risk walking into the strange darkness when he had no idea what was beyond it. Which once again left him with these damned memory doors. He headed back to the second one. May as well get this shit over with. 

He reopened the door that led to the sunset forest, and a quick look around confirmed for him that this was indeed the expansive stretch of land his clan rested in during the summer. He stepped in cautiously, wondering what to expect. It did at least feel like a lovely night, filling him with feelings of calm. Cassiel made his way through the trees, ears perked 

His heart ached when he came across a familiar clearing. He walked out, looking across the field of tall grass and flowers to the lake he used to visit every week. He and Breele would come here to be alone, to talk and laugh and have fun away from the clan. Young lovers. He walked to the edge of the lake, kicking at a rock, but his foot went straight through it. Of course. 

The sun’s reflection stretched over the waves beautifully. He looked up to the sky, seeing it darkening. Why was he here? What was he supposed to see?...

Voices drew his head around, and he swallowed painfully to see another version of himself, walking out of the treeline with Breele. Cassiel stepped back as they neared the lake, but watched, eyes fixated on Breele. The two of them smiling widely, Breele laughing at some no doubt ridiculous story he had told. He was holding a basket, and Cassiel’s younger self spread out a blanket on the ground so they could sit. 

Abruptly he remembered this, and turned away painfully. Of course. Of course it would be this. Once one of the happiest nights of his life, and now it stabbed at his heart agonisingly. He looked back slowly, eyes burning. Yes, he remembered. Surprising Breele with a day off from his duties, spending the day together wandering the forest freely, fishing and relaxing. Then having a late evening picnic at their favourite spot. As the sun finally set and the stars reflected off the lake and in Breele’s beautiful eyes, Cassiel would propose to him. Tell him all the things he loved about him and ask to be bonded forever. And Breele would tearfully agree. A wonderful, beautiful memory that he had pushed to the back of his mind for the last seven years. 

“Just let me out of this,” he said raggedly, turning away. The forest flickered, fading abruptly. Cassiel looked over his shoulder sharply, seeing Breele’s last moment before he was gone. Again. He let out an aggravated shout, slamming a fist into the stone wall. He glared about the room, seething. 

“What the fuck do you want from me?” he barked uselessly. “Is this a test or a fucking punishment?” He rubbed his hand gingerly, baring his teeth. He started for the door, but his vision dimmed for a moment, and he had to catch himself on the wall to keep from collapsing. He was exhausted. 

“How long have I been in here?” he said aloud, waiting for his vision to clear. He tried to remember, but his sense of time felt… off. Hadn’t he only come in a few minutes ago? No, it was longer than that. He closed his eyes, focusing. Between the long staircase, and each room he had been in… 

His memories felt fractured and confused. How many times had he opened this door? Twice? No, more than twice. No, only twice. Once to check, once to come in. What about the other rooms? How many rooms had he gone inside? Two… three. He rubbed his forehead, trying to keep his mind straight. He was very tired. 

“Maybe I just need to rest then,” he said under his breath, sliding to the floor. He was asleep before he even landed, sinking into deep dreams.


	5. Reveal

The rest of their journey to the ruins was mostly silent. Iron Bull had tried to break the awkward quiet with a joke here and there, but gave up when no one seemed to be interested. Cassandra stayed in the lead, focused, Bull and Dalish behind her, the elf still looking uncomfortable. Likely worried what would happen to the Chargers if the inquisitor died. Behind them was Dorian and Dia, still side by side, but Dia had fallen into a fitful silence as well. Of course, it was her brother trapped in those ruins. 

Platel was several feet in the rear, moody and unresponsive to Dia’s morning greeting. Dorian was fine with that. There was enough stress in the air without the elf throwing angry jabs this way and that. Dorian wondered briefly if he had gone a bit far with his threats, before remembering the man had pinned him bodily against a tree and threatened him. He smirked slightly, but it vanished when his thoughts turned to Cassiel again. 

They would reach the ruins in but a few hours, and as they got nearer, Dorian began to worry more and more he would not be able to take down the barrier. If he failed, they would need to start dragging more and more out of Skyhold, cause that panic Cassiel had wanted to avoid, but worst of all, he would spend even more time trapped behind that bloody barrier. If there was indeed no danger, just an old elvish trap, then the only risk was boredom. But Dorian doubted it could ever be so simple. 

*****

Cassiel’s dreams were troubled, fitful, full of flashing images. Blood spray, screams, all of them familiar and gut wrenching. Some were his. And sometimes, a grinning face, obscured by a curtain of mist. Each time he saw it, it changed ever so slightly, but always the wide grin, the eyes of malice. 

Cassiel woke with a sharp gasp, his chest tight. He sucked in another breath, straining to breathe past what felt like an enormous weight on his chest. Memories flashed in his head, a mad, drooling bear and its horrific maw over his head. A smiling bandit laughing as he pressed him into the dirt, whispering awful things in his ear. Panic seized him, his breathing growing ever more irregular. He felt like he was going to pass out again. 

_“Hush, darling, it’s all right. Do you remember where you are?”_

A gentle hand stroking his cheek, a soft familiar scent. Cassiel wished he could see, but it was pitch dark in here, like his eyes had been sealed shut. 

_“You’re safe here with me, amatus.”_

“D-Dorian,” he choked out. His voice felt unnaturally loud. He struggled to settle his breathing, trying to match the tevinter’s, but he couldn’t hear his breaths. Another hallucination. Or he was still dreaming. 

He swiped a hand in the air, feeling nothing but the stone floor beneath him. No one there. He took in another shuddering breath, slower this time. He touched his face gingerly, wondering if he really were blindfolded, but nothing was there either. His heart slowed to a steady pace. Slowly calming, but still on alert. He had no idea what had happened. 

Try to remember. He had fallen asleep in one of the rooms. So where was he now? He turned his head, but it had no effect in complete darkness. Had the ambient lighting gone out in the ruins? The source of which he could not have guessed to begin with. Did he somehow get into the darkened area? Did he sleepwalk, was he dragged here?

Focus. Don’t panic. He rolled onto all fours, feeling along the ground. It felt uniform and non distinct. He could wander in here for hours in circles and get nowhere. He didn’t even know how big the room was, unless it was still the same stone room he had collapsed in. 

He needed to decide what he was going to do, but he felt trapped. Nothing in this place made any sense as he understood it, and now he couldn’t see a bloody thing. He was hallucinating or dreaming or there was terrifying magic at play, and regardless of the answer he had no control over it. He was alone, and had no idea how long he had even been trapped here. 

Dark laughter behind him made him scramble to his feet, grasping his lone remaining dagger. “What’s the matter, inquisitor? Are you lost?”

Cassiel held the dagger up, holding his ground. “Who’s there,” he demanded. Laughter met his voice. 

“Whoever you wish, darling.” Dorian’s voice. Cassiel narrowed his eyes, feeling his hand falter, but he tightened his grip. “It could be anyone here in the dark.” Breele. Cassiel ground his teeth together. “Who do you wish to see?” And that… that was his own voice. Cassiel took a slow step back. 

“Are you a demon then? Or something else?” Cassiel backed up, grunting when a wall suddenly stopped him. There had been no wall there a moment ago. 

“Tsk tsk. That isn’t what I asked.” This time, it sounded deep, malicious. Cassiel kept his ears perked, listening for footsteps. “I thought we could get to know each other better, inquisitor. I have heard so much about you, but I’m still so curious.” The voice was getting closer. Cassiel swiped, but hit nothing. “Tell me about you,” it whispered in his ear. He jerked - 

\- and woke up again, breathing hard, squinting in the light of the stone room he had collapsed in. He bolted to his feet, dagger in hand, spinning on the spot, but no one was there. His eyes darted from one corner to another, then he backed out the door, spinning once more to study the passageway. 

Nothing had changed. The same non existent lightsource, the same dark wall at the far end of the hall, the same several doors leading to strange memory rooms. Cassiel swallowed hard, fiddling nervously with his shirt collar. That dream had not felt like a dream. He could still feel the icy breath on his ear, with a feeling like a shroud falling over him. 

He was becoming ever more certain he was dealing with a demon, and a smart one at that. He turned slowly on the spot, looking back to where the exit once was, and still seeing that solid stone wall. How long had he been in here? Would the others arrive soon? Had they already, and couldn’t break down the barrier? 

_“I should not have come in here on my own. I am an idiot elf and always have been.”_

So, if it was a demon, what was the purpose of the doors, then? He thought back to his dream, the creature whispering about wanting to get to know him. Was that what this was for? Pulling memories out of his head to show his life? To find a weakness? To wear him down? He was getting damn exhausted. Or did it want to possess him, and was hoping to find something to tempt him with? But why possess him? He had no magical power to speak of, besides the anchor, and its use was limited. Unless the demon knew more about it than he did. 

Cassiel leaned against the wall wearily. Once again, he felt trapped. No way out, and no way ahead, and no way to even know what the hell was wanted out of him. He looked to another of the doors, shaking his head slowly. He supposed there was a possibility this was still an old elven test, but corrupted by the passage of time. He couldn’t convince himself of it though. 

How long had he been in here?

One of the doors creaked open a few inches, drawing his eyes to it. He still held his dagger, and prepared himself to fight if something emerged from the room. He stared at it hard for a full minute, but nothing happened. He had a feeling he was being coaxed along. 

_“What else is there to do? If it’s a demon, maybe it’ll show itself and I can kill it. Or maybe I can learn what the hell its doing. I don’t even know how long I’ve been stuck in here, and there’s no way out.”_

He began to creep toward the door, still tensed in case he was attacked, peering through the slit in the door. He could see more trees, in darkness. He let out a huff, not wanting to do this. Not wanting to face whatever the hell had been prepared for him. He shoved the door open angrily, walking inside. 

The moment he saw Platel he knew what the memory would be. He turned his head bitterly, but a chilling hand seemed to sweep his face back to watch. He saw Platel approaching another version of himself, younger but with deep wounds on his face, barely healed. His eyes were hollow, empty. Cassiel wanted to look away, but something was holding him in place. 

“Ma lath, I haven’t seen you in days…” Platel reached out for his hands. Cassiel did not take them, simply looking at him. Platel slowly lowered them. “Cassie, I’m so sorry about Breele… I’m here for you, you know that, right?”

“It’s over, Platel.” His voice was dead, monotone. He held out a hand. In his palm was the ring Platel had given him. The elf stared at him, uncomprehending. 

“I… What? What do you mean?”

“I’m breaking this off.” Cassiel placed the ring in his hand when he didn’t take it. Platel stared at him, then the ring, then back to Cassiel. Tears fell from his eyes. 

“W… What? No, no, no!” Platel took him by the shoulders, gripping him tightly. “Honey, no, we can work this out, I know losing Breele hurt you but this isn’t… This isn’t how it has to be!”

“I’m sorry.” Cassiel’s voice did not echo even the slightest bit of remorse. It made him want to vomit. 

“Cassie!! Please, don’t give up on me, I promise you won’t lose me too… Cassie!” His desperate yell as Cassiel turned and walked away made his current self’s heart ache. He wrestled himself free of whatever ethereal grip had him, baring his teeth. 

“Is this all?” he snapped, turning to see nothing there. He threw his hands in the air in aggravation. “What do you want from me, to say I’m a monster? A shitty husband? Is this whole thing really just some pathetic elven test to make me stare down all my past fuck-ups, or are you just a shitty demon who kills through guilt alone?”

“A shitty demon indeed…” He felt that cold embrace around him again, and shook it off, stepping away as the forest flickered and faded. But this time it did not turn back into the stone room, instead fading into another familiar scene. 

Redcliffe, outside the tavern he and Dorian had gone to to meet his father. The door snapped open, a version of himself storming out with Dorian behind him. His own expression was taut, stiff, eyes flashing as he swept past the people outside. Dorian simply followed him, head down. Cassiel watched them go, wondering why he was seeing this. 

The scene flickered. Nightfall, the two of them camped some way away from Redcliffe. He leaned in close to the tevinter, whispering soft assurances. The mage’s eyes were bright with tears, but he smiled shakily, their hands entwined. 

Flicker. An abandoned corner of Skyhold, sharing a private moment alone with Dorian. Cassiel blinked, looking about in confusion. What was happening? Flicker again, and it was his room, Dorian finally making the first move. 

Flicker, and they were at Adamant. Cassiel looked up sharply to see the terrifying red lyrium dragon shrieking overhead. His breathing started to pick up, knowing what was next. Flicker, and he was falling into the fade. Flicker, and his anchor was unlocking stolen memories. Flicker - 

Pinned to the ground, blood draining from his face. Panic seized his heart, feeling the familiar weight pressing down on his chest. The bandit grinned down at him, bloody knife in hand. Others were holding down his arms, their laughter echoing in his head. 

“Won’t be so pretty when we’re done with you, knife ear,” he said, Cassiel squeezing his eyes shut. He leaned in closer, whispering, “You always hide from this one, don’t you? Won’t tell anyone. Not your family. Not your lover. Not even yourself. Just lock that memory up tight and clean.” 

His eyes shot back open. That wasn’t right. It was no longer the bandit grinning vilely down at him. It was himself, blood making a crimson mask from the deep wounds sliced into him. His teeth were stained with red, an unnaturally long tongue licking over them. His eyes were completely black. 

Cassiel lashed out, swinging at his demonic visage, connecting with his jaw with a _crack_. It shrieked, sweeping away in a flash of shadow. Cassiel stared at the empty room, panting, then made a choked cry of pain, touching his face. He looked at the blood on his hand shakily. It had cut open his scars again, though not as deep as the first time it had happened. He felt his shirt tentatively. Cut in places, but no bleeding. He swallowed hard, taking a few more breaths before pushing himself to his feet. 

He searched his pockets for spare cloth or rag, pausing when he found a handkerchief. He snorted, smiling a bit as he pulled it out. Crumpled heavily, crammed into his pocket ages ago after Dorian gave it him as a gift. It was sweet but when the hell would he even need one? Now, apparently, he thought to himself as he used it to gently dab the blood from his face, holding it over his eye to stop the bleeding. He spat blood from his mouth. At least the cuts on his lips were fairly shallow. 

He tried to take the moment of peace to get his mind together, but the barrage of memories had left him shaken and confused. At some point he had stopped being an audience to them and had become a part of them again… or perhaps that was the demon’s involvement, physically forcing him to relive it. He gingerly felt his face again, wincing at the open wounds. Dangerous, powerful, but it had run when he attacked. 

He stuffed the cloth back into his pocket, stepping out of the room. Or trying to - the door swung shut in his face, nearly hitting him in the nose. He touched the door, cursing when the wood burnt his fingertips. He slammed a fist into it, cursing both the pain and the demon. He turned back, startled to see Dorian behind him. 

Cassiel’s dagger immediately found its way into his hand, and he held it out threateningly. “Take off my lover’s face,” he snarled venomously. “I know it’s you.” Dorian smiled, his gentle smile, stepping closer. His hand shook on the knife, but he didn’t back down. “I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to get out of this, but wearing his skin won’t help you,” he hissed. Dorian’s hand touched his. Cassiel flinched, fingers clenching, but hesitated. 

His grip tightened, Cassiel screaming as his wrist bones ground together. The knife fell to the floor. The mage shook his head, looking at him softly. “Even when you know it isn’t him, you pause,” he said gently. His other hand took the inquisitor’s chin, pinching him firmly. The elf sucked in a sharp breath. Should’ve attacked. Why didn’t he attack? He was so goddamn tired. “You are weak, inquisitor, and weak mortals are easy prey for demons. If you were a mage, you’d be dead long ago.” 

Lightning blazed from his hands, pain alighting every nerve. He couldn’t even scream, his body locking up, the demon grinning cruelly from his lover’s face. After a few seconds he released him, letting the inquisitor fall to his knees, coughing and gasping for air. He scrabbled for his dagger, swinging clumsily, but the demon was gone once more. He collapsed on the floor, taking in one slow breath after another. 

_“You can’t hesitate next time. You can’t hesitate.”_ His clothes were smoking slightly from the magical attack. His entire body was sore, and he was exhausted. He felt like the memories or the demon was sapping away at him every time they met. He touched his wrist gingerly, gritting his teeth. Bruised but not broken. 

Cassiel pushed himself back to his feet, holding the knife in his uninjured hand. He turned to the door, and it was open again. He let out a breath of weariness, and made his way through it. 

*****

“He better be able to take down the barrier…”

“Shut the hell up, Platel.”

“That isn’t even an insult! Cassiel hasn’t been seen in two days, we need to get to him _now_.”

The two elves quarrelling did not even register in Dorian’s mind. Indeed, nothing could break his focus now, deep in meditation before the silvery barrier Krem and the Chargers had brought them to. He slowly moved his hands and fingers before it, letting himself feel the layers of interwoven magic. It was a deeply complex barrier, made by someone very powerful, or clever… or both. Fortunately, it was always easier to break something than create it, so Dorian remained hopeful as he studied it. 

There. His hand paused when he found something, a tiny seam where the magic met but did not overlap. He opened his eyes, looking it over and taking in a long breath. He looked to the others, Cassandra standing up when he finally moved. 

“Can you take it down?” she asked briskly. Dorian made a small smile. 

“Well, the bad news is… No I can’t. Not the entire thing.” He glanced back to the barrier, then to the others. “It would be difficult to explain and I’m sure none of you are all that interested right now. The good news is, I can crack it open.” He drew his hand over a space in the silvery curtain. “With enough power in the right spot, I can break open a hole, just big enough for us to squeeze through.”

“Perfect,” Cassandra said, relieved. Dorian made a face, pinching his chin. 

“The issue is that whatever made this barrier could also patch up the hole I make, so once I break it open, we need to get through quickly. Be ready.” He clicked his tongue, refocusing on the barrier. He could faintly hear Cassandra and Iron Bull giving orders behind him as he let his power well up within him, chanting quietly under his breath to keep his thoughts in line. His hands began to glow, brighter and brighter. He dragged up more and more power, mind turning to the thin seam in the barrier. Needed to be enough. Had to be able to get through. He held his hands before the barrier, a mere breath away, and at once unleashed the build up of power with a loud shout. 

A ringing like a bell clanged out over their heads, nearly deafening them, the barrier flashing with the energy tearing into it. Dorian shielded his eyes, peering between his fingers. His heart jumped when he saw a tear in the silvery sheen before them. It had worked. 

“Let’s go,” he called over his shoulder, striding through immediately. Cassandra followed him, Iron Bull behind her, then Dia and Platel. The Chargers remained outside, to watch and see what happened. Bull looked to them, waving a hand. 

“Remember,” he said. “Two hours, and then you get your asses back to Skyhold. Hopefully, we’ll be back with the inquisitor before you know it.”

Dorian and Cassandra led the group to the singular entrance into the ruins, that Krem told them Cassiel had vanished into shortly after Dalish left. In the two days since, not a sign of him had been seen or heard. Dorian was worried; they all were, hands grasping to weapons, eyeing the area. The mage halted them when they reached the entrance, fingertips feeling the air. 

“What is it?” Cassandra asked. Dorian looked down the darkened stairwell, then to the seeker. 

“The air is thick with magic. I should probably take the lead. Any traps here are likely to be magical.”

She nodded reluctantly, stepping back to let him go first. He really didn’t want to either, of course. The last thing he wanted was to be on the front lines of danger. But they needed to hurry, and he was anxious to find Cassiel. He headed down the stairs, lighting his staff.


	6. Doppelganger

Cassiel leaned against the wall wearily, ready to collapse. Exhausted. He felt as though he’d been running nonstop for a week. How… long had he been in here? No way to tell. His sense of time was completely thrown off by the non-distinct scenery and mental barrage of memories. If he had to make a guess, he could say any number of days… Though he still wasn’t hungry, or thirsty. Hell, he hadn’t even needed to piss yet. A flicker of terror hit his mind. Was it possible he had only been in here for a few hours, or even minutes?

He took in a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. How long he had been in here did not truly matter. It didn’t change the scenario he found himself in, where he needed to either kill the demon, or wait for back-up. _“Can I kill this demon? Can I wait long enough if barely any time has passed at all?”_

Don’t think about that. He fell to his knees, letting out a long breath. All right, just needed to rest for a bit, then. He let his eyes slide shut, resting his hands on his legs. Don’t fall asleep in here. Just take a minute to gather yourself. 

He opened his eyes, and jerked when he saw himself standing at the end of the hallway. He bolted to his feet unsteadily, knife still in hand. His clone cocked his head, a wide grin spreading across his face. 

“Are you fading, inquisitor?” he said in a mockingly gentle tone. The demon began walking closer, long sweeping steps. Cassiel clutched his dagger tightly, trying to keep his eyes focused. “It didn’t take much, did it? A small journey through your past, a few gashes here and there. And here you are, barely able to stand.”

“If you’re going to kill me, then just do it,” Cassiel taunted, narrowing his eyes. The demon laughed, still approaching, unfazed by him. 

“Kill you? Why would I ever kill you, dear inquisitor?” He halted a few feet away, crossing his arms and looking the elf over. He was the inquisitor’s exact double, even sharing his wounds, though they didn’t seem to bother him. “There’s still so much for me to know about you.” The malicious smile on his face was certainly not his. Cassiel grit his teeth. “And soon you won’t even be able to resist me.”

Cassiel launched himself with a shout, swinging his knife. The demon ducked, dodging away from his thrusts. He was still laughing at him, and the sound was maddening. Cassiel grabbed hold of his shirt, yanking him close, and shouted as the demon slammed their foreheads together. He stumbled back, barely catching himself as the demon moved in. He stabbed once more, finally hitting home in the creature’s ribs. 

He shrieked, expression twisting in rage, but not pain. Cassiel stepped back as his body seemed to elongate, arms stretching unnaturally. The demon flung out clawed hands, tearing across his chest and ripping bloody seams through his flesh. 

Cassiel couldn’t even react before it barreled into him, bringing them both to floor. A guttural sound escaped his throat as his back hit the stone floor, pain flaring in his old injury. The demon had him pinned down now, a monstrous version of himself with four arms too long and twisted, a long fanged grin stretching over his face. Claws dug into his chest, ripping through his clothing. 

“C-Changed your mind about killing me?” Cassiel choked out darkly with a smirk. The demon chuckled, deep and cruel. 

“No, you’re not escaping me so easily.” He slammed a hand into his head, pressing his face into the stone. Another clasped his wrists together, squeezing tightly enough it was a wonder his bones didn’t break. The demon leaned in, foul breath washing over him. “But you interrupted me earlier… The memory you especially didn’t want to relive with me. Perhaps we should experience it together.”

Cassiel wished he had the strength left to fight. He tried to break out of the creature’s grip, but it was like trying to crack iron. He let out a pained cry, long and desperate, wishing to the gods he had never come down here, that he had never come in the first place, and now - 

The demon jerked, raising his head. His grip loosened momentarily, but Cassiel still lacked the strength to break free. He grinned, looking back to the elf. “Someone has damaged my barrier,” he said softly. He released the elf, standing. His body was shrinking again. Cassiel simply lay there, out of breath, out of energy. The demon tore the dagger from its ribs, tossing it on the ground. “It seems your friends are here already,” he continued. He reached down, grabbing the inquisitor around the neck and hauling him down the hallway. Cassiel choked, clutching at his hand to try and break its hold. 

“I believe I have enough to fool your companions, but I prefer not to take unnecessary risks, you understand.” He was taking himself toward that dark magical wall Cassiel had seen earlier, that his knife had disappeared into. “You may stay here, for now… I’ll be back later to take what’s left in that pretty head of yours.”

“You… k-kaffas!” Cassiel spat out. The demon chuckled, shaking his head. He looked like a near perfect match to the inquisitor. 

“Sputter all you wish, inquisitor. Don’t worry. Your precious lover will find you again.” He held the elf before him, grinning at his attempts to break his hold. “Just not the you he was expecting.”

*****

“Hold on.” Dorian stopped, Cassandra bumping into him from behind. “Andraste’s tits, I said hold on!”

“Why are we stopping?” she said in frustration. Dorian lifted a hand in the air. 

“There’s something strange here. I almost didn’t notice from all the ambient magical energy.” He focused, trying to sense what was ahead of him. It felt like an illusion, but something… more, as well. White flickered over his hand, and he swiped the air. 

The space before them rippled with red and black energy. Dorian stared hard at it, Cassandra murmuring in shock. “What is it?” she asked. 

“Some sort of a gate. A demon has made a pocket realm here. Not quite the fade, but adjacent enough to garner control over its surroundings.” He let out a long breath. “It must be a powerful one.”

“Wait, are you saying we’re going to have to enter the fade… again?” Iron Bull said in disbelief. Dorian scoffed, shaking his head. 

“No, I just said…” He sighed in frustration. “If it was that bloody easy to enter the fade everyone would bloody do it!”

“Hey, I’m not here to understand demon bullshit. I’m just here to cut them down.” Iron Bull chuckled to himself. “Look, I believe you even if I don’t get it. It’s not the fade, fine. Let’s get in, then.”

“Yes, let’s just trot willy-nilly into a demon realm.” He pinched his forehead, letting out another aggravated breath. “Not sure why I’m even arguing it, when there’s not exactly a choice.”

“Dorian.” It was Dia’s voice. He turned to see the elf had squeezed her way behind him, next to Cassandra. She patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll find him, all right? Lead the way.”

Dorian watched her for a moment, then nodded, turning back to the rippling gate. He took in a breath, and stepped through. 

Nothing altered from one side to the next. Though he noticed it was fairly light in here, despite being far from the entrance. He put out his staff, stepping further down to let the others through. Iron Bull glanced around curiously, snorting. 

“So this is a demon realm, huh? Not very creative.”

“But it would have tricked Cassiel,” Dia said softly, looking back to the gate. “He didn’t see the gate and everything looks the same. He would have wandered in and not even known anything changed.”

“It’s light in here,” Platel said, looking around. “Wouldn’t he find that suspicious? Where’s the light coming from?”

Dorian sighed, turning back ahead. “He could have rationalised it. He could have had any number of reasons to keep moving. He can’t sense magic.” He could see the end of the stairs from here, and led the group further down. “I just hope he’s all right.”

“Is that… a wall?” Cassandra asked after a few steps. Dorian raised a brow, then smirked. He trotted down the final steps, touching his fingers to it. 

“Need me to break it down?” Iron Bull offered. Dorian shook his head. 

“No no. It’s just another illusion.” He pressed his hand against it, white flaring from his fingers again. The stone faded away. He stepped through, Cassandra right beside him. 

“Could he have broken the wall down?” he heard Platel whisper to Dia. His voice travelled loudly through the passage. Bull laughed, flexing toward the elf. 

“These muscles ain’t just for show, y’know,” he said, winking. Platel looked away quickly, face reddening. Dia chuckled, leading the qunari away. Dorian looked over the hallway before them. 

Very bland and plain, nothing that stood out, but for the smoking remains of wooden doors leading off to other rooms. Dorian peered through the nearest one. Nothing inside, just blank stone walls. He turned, seeing Cassandra pick her way over another pile of smouldering embers. 

“Nothing in here,” she said, looking back to the others. They made their way as a group further along, peering into each room as they passed, but each was empty. Ahead was a wider entryway, a wall of darkness blotting out the room. It felt like more than an illusion. Dorian started walking closer, curious. 

“Inquisitor!!”

He spun, seeing Cassandra kicking aside the burnt wood of another door as she raced into one of the rooms. Platel and Dia were right beside her. Dorian and Iron Bull reached the door, the mage hurrying in while Iron Bull hung back. 

The elf was prone on the ground, clothes tattered and torn and bloody. He raised his head when Cassandra knelt down beside him, his face coated in dried crimson. Dia hunched down, carefully checking for wounds. 

“Glad you found me,” he said hoarsely. Dia and Cassandra helped him sit up, Dorian grimacing at the deep wounds across his eye and mouth. His eyes slowly turned across the room, taking account of everyone in the room. “Good. Dalish did what I said. Good.”

“Are you all right, inquisitor? What happened?” Cassandra asked. He spat a gob of blood on the ground. 

“Demon… I think. Some sort of demon.” He looked around the room, gesturing gingerly with a bruised hand. “These rooms… They were something else before you all got here. It’s hard to explain.”

“We need to get him out of here,” Dia said shortly. “Get him patched up and we can assess the situation where we’re safe.”

“Good idea.” The two women helped Cassiel to his feet. Platel shifted uncomfortably, looking to Dorian, but the mage ignored him. Cassiel looked exhausted, spent. He looked as though he had been in here a lot longer than two days. 

“Here, boss,” Iron Bull said as they exited the room, Cassiel leaning heavily on Dia. He held out the elf’s knife, handle toward him. “Found this on the ground.”

“Thank you,” he said, tucking the dagger away in its sheath. He turned his head down the passageway. “I tossed the other one through there,” he said, nodding to the wall of darkness. “Didn’t hear it land… Not sure what’s beyond it, but decided not to see for myself.” 

“That was probably wise,” Dorian said softly. He took up the rear with Iron Bull and Platel. As they reached the stairway, Dorian glanced behind them once more. He wondered where the demon was. Did it retreat when it heard them coming? If it was as powerful as he thought it was, he would have expected a fight. He turned back, following the others up the stairs. Perhaps Cassiel could tell them more after he rested. 

*****

Cassiel shouted as the others turned from him, slamming his fists on the inside of the wall of darkness. He had no idea what the hell it was, but though he was flung through easily, he could not get back out. But he could see perfectly, see as Cassandra and Dia helped his copy limp from the room, Dorian watching him with worried eyes, Platel and Iron Bull keeping a watch out for the demon. 

Except the demon was right there with them. Cassiel slammed his fists once more, tears burning his eyes when he saw Dorian glance back toward him. If not for this wall, their gaze would have met. Then the tevinter turned away, leaving him behind. All of them leaving him behind. 

Cassiel slid to the floor, yelling to himself in anger and pain. So that had been its entire plan. To peer into his mind over and over until it could not only take his form, but his mannerisms, his memories, everything. It didn’t want to possess him; it wanted to be him. Cassiel took in a ragged breath, anger and hatred coursing through his veins. 

_“I can’t let this happen. I can’t let that bastard win.”_ He stared out hatefully into the empty passage, then turned his head to look behind him. Within this strange shell, he could see everything perfectly, but for a dark hue wherever it touched. There was more to this ruin. There had to be something he could use. His eyes fell on his dagger, thrown in here carelessly what felt like ages ago now. He snagged it off the ground, pushing himself to his feet. 

He was still exhausted, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t die here, not from natural causes. He had been here for two days without food and water but still didn’t hunger or thirst. He touched his chest where he had wrapped it with the remnants of his jacket to stop the bleeding. He could survive here unless something killed him. He had time, then. Time to find a solution.


	7. Determination and Danger

Cassiel had not spoken since they left the ruins, and it unnerved Dorian a great deal. 

It had been an hour since they made camp some distance away, far enough to be some measure of safe but close enough to keep an eye on the place. The hole in the barrier remained. 

The Chargers had been happy and relieved to see Cassiel emerge, even in his roughed up state, but he had barely given them a glance. His eyes were distant… He didn’t even say a word when Dia checked his wounds, cleaning and patching them up. She had whispered to him, words Dorian couldn’t hear, but Cassiel had simply looked away. 

Now they all sat in awkward silence around their camp, doing odd jobs to try and keep their minds occupied. Cassiel was pacing back and forth away from everyone else, distracted. Dorian glanced to the others. The Chargers had set to cooking up a meal, quietly engaged in conversation with each other. Cassandra was watching the ruins coolly, eyes sharp and alert, though she glanced to the inquisitor every so often. Dia and Iron Bull sat together, both of them tense even while seated. And Platel…

The elf was on the opposite end of the camp from Cassiel, but clearly watching him. His arms were crossed, fingers fidgeting. He seemed especially uneasy. Dorian sighed, looking to Cassiel. He hadn’t wanted to approach him publicly, wanted to give the man some time and space to process what he experienced, but he was giving off such a… worrisome air. Dorian finally made his move, striding across camp toward the inquisitor. He could feel the camp turning their eyes to watch him. 

“Amatus?” he said softly when he was a few feet away. The elf didn’t seem to have noticed him, humming quietly under his breath. He stepped closer, touching his shoulder. 

Cassiel jerked in shock, looking at him sharply. His eyes softened when he saw the mage. “Oh, Dorian…” He rubbed his forehead, turning to face him. “Sorry, I… I was thinking.”

“Are you all right?” Dorian asked. He touched his cheek gently. Cassiel simply looked at him, ears tipped back. “What happened in there?”

He let out a shaky breath, eyes flickering away. “I… I don’t know.” He took a few moments more to compose himself. “Those rooms… They were like pockets of memories. But twisted. I’m… not sure how to think about it.”

Dorian stroked down his neck. The elf shivered. He did not seem comforted by his touch. Dorian drew his hand back. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. His heart sank when Cassiel shook his head. 

“... No. I think I need to be alone right now, Dorian.”

Dorian nodded slowly, chest burning when the elf turned away from him. It was like he was locking up all over again, putting up walls to shut him out. He backed off, walking away from the inquisitor. 

Not knowing what else to do with himself, he headed over to Dia and Iron Bull, sitting himself down by the elf. She looked at him curiously. “Are you all right, lethallen?”

Dorian drew up his knees, clasping his hands over them. “He doesn’t wish to speak with me,” he said quietly. Dia looked at him hard, then back to the inquisitor. 

“This isn’t a side I’ve seen of him before,” Bull said under his breath. Dia let out a low sigh. 

“... this isn’t the place to deal with it.” 

They looked up as Cassandra walked closer, kneeling down beside them. “We need to decide what we’re doing,” she said. “Now that the inquisitor is safe, I say we go back into the ruins to take on the demon ourselves.”

“Is that… wise?” Dia asked, looking between the others. “It seems to be very powerful… Look what it did to him,” she added with a nod to Cassiel. 

“It is, but it didn’t kill him,” Dorian said, keeping his voice low. “Nor did it come after us. I think it is powerful, but not in such a way as to trust itself to physical combat. Perhaps a desire demon. They prefer subterfuge.” Though its motive was still unknown… Could it have been random chance? Why would a demon target a non-mage?

“If the four of us go in after it, I’m sure we can kill one demon,” Cassandra said, drawing Dorian back out of his thoughts. “The inquisitor didn’t have a mage, or someone to watch his back… Or much idea what he was walking into. Now we have the advantage.”

“What are we all doing?”

They looked up in surprise. Cassiel had reached them in utter silence, standing over them with arms crossed. The four got to their feet, Cassandra nodding to him. 

“My apologies for speaking without you, inquisitor,” she said. He returned the nod stiffly. “I was saying I believe we should go back in to face the demon before it has a chance to escape.”

Cassiel’s eyes flickered toward the ruins. His expression did not change. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” he said quietly. “Not on our own. Not without Skyhold even knowing we’re out here.”

“What do you think we should do?” Dia asked. He looked over the camp slowly, thinking. 

“We go back, inform our advisors. Perhaps come back with a bigger force.”

“Hold on, we were trying to avoid a panic, weren’t we?” Iron Bull pointed out, brow furrowed. “Boss, I’m sure we can take on one demon.”

Cassiel looked at him coolly. “This isn’t a judgement of skill, but an assessment of risk,” he said. His eyes turned between the four, one by one. Dorian felt a small chill when his gaze skirted over him. “... But I suppose you are right,” he said finally. “I’m not sending you in on your own, however.”

“Amatus, I’m not sure you’re in the right shape for - ”

“I am not fragile,” he said sharply, cutting the mage off. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he continued in a gentler tone. “You’re right, again.” He met Dorian’s eyes, his blue eyed stare sharper than his voice. “Let me rest for a few hours… I don’t want the lot of you going in without me. I brought us all here, and I won’t let you take a risk I’m not taking.”

“Very well, inquisitor,” Cassandra said, nodding to him. “I’ll keep watch on the ruins in the meantime.”

“All right. The rest of you, try to get some rest as well. It’s been a busy couple of days.” He chuckled mirthlessly, turning from them. Dorian could feel Platel’s eyes on him again, but the mage wasn’t in the mood for whatever the elf had on his mind. He watched Cassiel retire to his bedroll, dragging it several feet from everyone else and flopping down heavily. Iron Bull left to join his Chargers around the campfire, Cassandra marching away to her post. Dorian looked to Dia for a moment, then wandered off on his own. 

_“Something just… feels wrong,”_ he thought to himself, seating himself at the base of a tree. He glanced toward the ruins, obscured in the darkening sky. He leaned his head back on the tree trunk, shutting his eyes. 

*****

_“This is all your fault you know.”_

Cassiel’s thoughts pestered him as he made his way deeper into the ruins. The dark shell the demon had created was fairly extensive, stretching into a few side chambers and down two corridors now. He wondered what it had been for, besides trapping him of course. Certainly didn’t need this much space to keep in one elf. 

_“If you didn’t spend so much time wallowing, you wouldn’t have been so distracted. Wouldn’t have been thrown off by those memories.”_

“Like I don’t know that,” Cassiel grumbled to himself, looking around. His brow furrowed, seeing an odd seam in the air. It hung in the middle of the hallway, about ten feet over his head. He crept closer, eyes widening. It was a rift, sealed but improperly. “So maybe this is how the demon got here,” he said softly. He glanced around at the dark shell. “Maybe this was to keep in other demons who came out…”

He crossed his arms, drumming his fingers on his elbow. Could he use this somehow? If he opened it, he could possibly redirect the energy from the rift at the dark shell and break it down. He had done it before. But of course, that would also mean demons spilling out of the rift, and no way for him to escape if it didn’t work. He winced, feeling his wounds twinge. He was not in any shape to fight an outpouring of demons. 

He let out a slow breath, head dropping and eyes sliding shut. Tired. He thought of that demon, wearing his shape, out there somewhere at this very moment. Was he heading back to Skyhold? Cassiel grit his teeth, eyes opening in a glare. His fault. Stupid and distracted and - 

“Think of a plan, you idiot,” he snarled at himself. He looked at the rift again, then turned, walking back toward where he had been thrown into the shell. “There has to be a way out of this, has to be something I can do…”

_“There isn’t. You couldn’t save Breele. Now you’ll fail everyone else too.”_ He stopped midstep, hands clenching into fists. _“He’ll steal the inquisition from you. They’ll die. Dia, and Platel, and Dorian - ”_

“What the fuck has this ever gotten me!” he shouted. His voices echoed off the walls. He clutched his head, falling to his knees. Frustration and despair welled up in his chest. “I didn’t kill Breele,” he snapped hoarsely, snarling at the open air. “I didn’t kill him! I’ve fucking… abandoned him, all these years, shutting him out… Shutting everyone out. I turned myself into a cold dead bastard for seven years and _what has trapping myself in that done for me.”_

He took in a heavy breath, wanting to just collapse on the ground and scream, but anger was coursing through him now. Anger at the demon. Anger at himself for letting it take advantage of him. For gods’ sake, it had even used the memory of his own wedding proposal against him. Had he really gone so far that he couldn’t enjoy his happy memories either? 

_“You never even told Dorian you were married. You kept Breele hidden from everyone. Is that how you show you love him?”_

Tears fell from his eyes. He lifted his left hand, looking to where his wedding ring had once been. Days after Breele’s death he had flung it away in a fury, losing it in a nearby river. He had regretted it instantly, but there was no bringing it back. And in seven years he had perfected silencing his mind to never remember the elf, to shove the memories out any time they flickered in his thoughts. 

To keep the memory of Breele’s death from himself he had closed himself off to every aspect of who he had been. He clenched his fists again, squeezing his eyes shut. Forgotten his husband to try and save himself. But Breele was still dead, and that was something he could never forget. In the end, it was the only memory he had left. Breele was dead. 

“I didn’t forget you,” he said shakily. He held his left hand in his right, wishing he still had his ring. Wishing for the countless time. “You’re my husband, and one day we’ll see… see each other again. I hope. Gods, I hope.” 

_“I have to let this go. The blame, the guilt, the hatred.”_ That it were so easy. But a new feeling sparked in his chest. Some small light in his heart. He thought of Dorian, his gentle voice asking him about Breele, coaxing small stories from him. Cassiel felt another tear fall, taking in a shaking breath. He wasn’t alone. He couldn’t lose everything he had gained, not again. Not when he still had the power to act.

_“Then I have to get out of here.”_

Cassiel pushed himself to his feet roughly, growling as his wounds stretched. He headed back toward the rift. Not to open it. Not yet, anyway. He needed to get a feel for the area, needed to see exactly what he had access to. He was going to get out of here somehow. 

*****

Dorian couldn’t relax, and it wasn’t just the tree bark digging into his back. He opened his eyes, looking up at the night sky. Clouds had gathered overhead, covering the stars and moon. It was so dark, with only the campfire as a source of light. 

Dorian glanced over the camp. Nobody else seemed to be sleeping either. Iron Bull and his Chargers were grouped tightly around the fire, talking quietly. Dia and Platel were on the other side of the camp, their silhouettes barely visible through the trees. Cassandra was pacing back and forth on the edge of camp, outside the light of fire, ostensibly still watching the ruins but she seemed lost in thought. Cassiel was still wrapped up in his bedroll, asleep, back turned to the fire. 

Dorian sighed, raising to his feet and stretching his legs. In another hour or two they would be heading back to the ruins. It could not be a moment too soon; the ambient demonic energy in the air was so thick it was making his skin itch. The others likely felt it too, thin tremors in the fade that kept them on edge. He walked to Cassandra, needing something to do, something to occupy his mind. Perhaps Cassiel found the silence of the forest soothing, but he just found it unnerving. 

“Seeker,” he said quietly as he approached. She glanced to him, halting her pacing as he reached her. “I imagine you haven’t seen any demons so far?” he said with a small grin. She shook her head, forcing out a chuckle. 

“I might welcome it by this point. Everything is too… still. Too quiet.” She shifted her shoulders, clasping her hands together. “Did you notice? Even the insects are silent.”

Dorian nodded slowly, thinking. “Cassiel mentioned before that animals try their best to avoid demons. Perhaps that includes insects.” He glanced around at the trees. Their fire cast long shadows through the forest, flickering with the flames. He shook his head, looking back to Cassandra. She seemed distant, lost in thought. 

“The inquisitor… He is acting strangely, is he not?” she said, voice so soft he barely heard her. He nodded shallowly, not sure what to say. “Distant, like when we emerged from the fade… But colder, somehow. What do you think he saw? What do you think the demon did to him?”

“I’m not sure.” He didn’t really want to discuss Cassiel’s past when he was absent either. “He said he saw memories, but twisted in some way. It may have been trying to distract him, throw him off. Weaken him so it could fight him physically. But I’m not sure to what end. It seems too intelligent to be acting purely out of sadism.”

“What kind of demon do you think we’re dealing with?”

Dorian shrugged, shaking his head. “A desire demon is my best guess. A fear demon is possible too, though I feel Cassiel would have recognised it by now.” He tried to say it with a wry humour, but his voice fell flat. He sighed, looking out toward the ruins, barely visible in the dark. “I don’t know. There are a lot of demons. Most of them are just too stupid to…” He squinted, Cassandra turning she saw his intent look. “Do you see that?”

Something dark and quick skirted across the grass and through the hole in the barrier. Dorian and Cassandra shot each other a look, before the seeker turned to the camp. “Everyone up!” 

The others quickly got to their feet, the two elves hurrying from the woods to join the rest of them. Cassandra marched up to the group, expression stern. She nodded to the inquisitor, still asleep. “Get him up. We saw something move into the ruins.”

“And here I thought we were waiting for something to come out of the ruins” Iron Bull said as Dorian went to Cassiel’s side, kneeling down. “It wasn’t just an animal?”

“Animals don’t go near demons,” Dorian said, shaking the elf’s shoulder. “Darling, wake…” His arm was cold. Dorian rolled the inquisitor over, drawing every eye when he gasped sharply. The elf’s eyes were still open, blank and white. Dorian bolted to his feet as the body faded, dissipating into nothing. 

“What the fuck?” Platel said in alarm, jerking back. Dia and Cassandra were at the mage’s side in an instant, staring at the empty bedroll. “What the hell just happened?”

“An illusion,” Dorian said breathlessly. He looked to the others quickly. “I don’t think we had the inquisitor. I think we had the demon.”

“What?” Dia stared at him, eyes blazing. “It possessed him? He isn’t a mage!” 

Dorian shook his head, pointing to the ruins. “No, what we brought back _was_ the demon. Maker, it was probably an envy demon. Why didn’t I think of that? They’re so bloody rare - ”

“Okay, who gives a shit right now,” Iron Bull cut in. “Because if you’re right, that means the inquisitor is probably still in those ruins, and that demon is probably going to kill him. So let’s get fucking moving!” Cassandra nodded, bolting off without another word. Bull remained behind just long enough to tell the Chargers to watch their backs before following, Dorian, Dia and Platel right beside him. 

“I don’t get it, why wouldn’t it just kill him?” Platel’s voice was frantic. Dorian doubted the man had ever been within a mile of a demon before. Well, knowingly. “Why pretend to be him? Why any of this?”

“This is not the time for a bloody demon lesson,” Dorian said heatedly. “Nor am I in the mood to speculate. Ask me again when we get Cassiel out of there.” When. Not if. Dorian grit his teeth, angry with himself for mistaking a demon for his lover. What the hell kind of person was he?


	8. Labyrinth

Cassiel touched the edge of the dark shell, thinking to himself. He had reached the far end of the shell several times now, wandering as much of the ruins as he could in his tiny prison. Some side rooms and two corridors, and a rift in the middle of it all. He still had his dagger, but he was wounded and felt as though he hadn’t slept in days. Not much to work with. 

The idea of redirecting the rift’s energy was still on his mind. Very risky, but still rapidly becoming his only option. If he could open it, take that energy and smash down this shell before any demons came through, or at least spotted him, he could possibly get away. Then of course he would need to make his way to Skyhold, assuming his demon clone was leading his friends back there. He clicked his tongue, wondering if Bel would carry that imposter… Would his appearance fool her, or would she sense the demonic energy? 

Well, if Bel was gone, he could find another animal in the area and asked it to carry him. Halla lived in these woods, any of his brothers or sisters would carry him in an emergency. He drummed his fingers on the shell, watching the dark hued air warble under his touch. That still required he survive getting out of here. He took in a slow breath, thinking of his friends. Of Skyhold. Of Dorian. They were all at risk the longer he stayed here. With no other options available, he was going to have to make a choice. His heart pounded with nerves and adrenaline. It was hardly the only stupid risk he had ever taken. He felt a small grin grow on his face. 

The shell flickered, fading away. Cassiel jerked back, brow furrowed. He spun on the spot, looking around quickly. How had it come down? Nothing he had done. He looked further down the hall. Should he run? If the demon was coming back, standing here would - 

“Cassiel!”

He turned, knife in hand. His eyes lit up when he saw Dorian rushing toward him, the mage’s expression full of relief. “Thank the Maker you’re all right, we have to hurry, that demon is coming back - ”

Cassiel lashed out with the knife, cutting the mage’s outstretched hand. He barked in pain, clutching his bleeding hand. He glowered at the elf, and his eyes began to glow hatefully. “We could have done this kindly,” he said maliciously, form twisting. Cassiel bared his teeth fiercely, feeling his legs quiver with exhaustion. “Your friends are too stubborn… So you will die now, instead of later.”

Cassiel laughed, clutching his dagger ever tighter. “My friends have always been the stubborn sort,” he said, feeling his heart pound at what he was about to do. “Unfortunately, I’m no different.”

Cassiel bolted forward, feinting when the demon slammed clawed fists into the stone. He tore his dagger across its hamstring, shrieking as it toppled. Cassiel did not stay, racing away as fast as his weary legs could take him. Back toward the rift. 

*****

It was different when they entered the demon gate this time, each bursting through without stopping. Dorian looked to the walls, pulsing with red magical energy, warping and rippling as they descended the stairs. 

“What’s happening?” Dia called out. Dorian chuckled bitterly. 

“The demon’s getting creative, I believe.”

The group skidded to a halt when they reached the passageway. Cassandra cursed, pacing back and forth rapidly. No longer was it a straight passage filled with empty rooms; now it curved back and forth, the floor uneven, and a quick glance in the nearest door saw it twisting off deep into the earth. Dorian tapped his staff on the ground, thinking to himself. 

“Are these illusions too?” Platel asked. Dorian shook his head. 

“Not entirely. Some of it may be reality, but warped. We would waste too much time trying to decipher it all.”

“Then we split up to search,” Cassandra proposed stiffly, looking down the various new passageways. “Two groups so no one is alone.”

“Best idea we got right now,” Iron Bull said, stamping impatiently in place. “Me and the seeker will be one. Dorian, you go with Dia and the shaky kid.” He pointed to the elves. “Neither of ‘em have fought demons before, they’ll need you more than we will.”

“As much as I hate to admit when you’re right, you are right.” Dorian let out a breath, not wanting to separate but knowing they were out of time. He pointed down the main passageway. “We’ll go this way. Dia?”

The elf nodded, running on ahead. Dorian scrambled to follow her, not expecting her to take so fast. Behind him he heard Cassandra and Iron Bull racing off down another hallway, and finally Platel scrabbling to catch up. 

“How do we fight a demon?” the elf asked, eyes wide. Dorian looked to him quickly. He was terrified. Part of the mage was irritated to know that all his earlier threats were really just bluster. But he supposed he couldn’t have expected much more. Cassiel had said his clan had never dealt with demons before. 

It was unfortunate he couldn’t wear a brave face like Dia. 

“Stab it with your spear,” Dorian said shortly. “Demons will die to chunks of metal the same as any creature. Just watch out when I start firing lightning into the field.”

“What if it looks like Cassiel?”

Dorian wasn’t sure if he was asking how they would tell them apart, or how to kill it. He decided not to answer, focusing on Dia just ahead of him. The twisting passage ended with a wide stone entrance. He recognised it from before, but back then it had a strange barrier of darkness. Now it was clear, the walls emitting a strange dark smoke. 

A shriek echoed through the ruins. Dorian perked up, but he couldn’t tell what direction it had come from. The walls began to shake, almost throwing him off his feet. Dia skidded to a halt, barely keeping her footing. 

“How much of this is illusion and how much is real?” she said, though she didn’t sound like she expected an answer. The sound of doors slamming cut that line of thought short, the three looking in shock to the doorways suddenly pocketing the walls. Wooden doors swung open and crashed shut, over and over, filling the air with an awful racket. Dorian grit his teeth, pushing Dia to continue down the passage. 

“It’s just distraction!” he yelled to be heard over the noise. “The demon might know we’re here!”

“Or maybe Cassie got away from it,” Dia called back. Dorian felt his gut wrench. Had to find him first. Had to find him before the demon did. 

*****

This place was changing. The sound of cracking stone and crashing doors filled his ears. Cassiel blocked it all out, focusing on running. Not far to go. He could hear the demon coming after him, shrieking and stumbling on its crippled leg. He skidded around the corner of the passageway, eyes falling on the rift. 

He pushed himself even harder, throwing out his hand. The anchor flared, green light blazing a link to the sealed rift. He heard the the demon scream at him, barely thirty feet away, and just smiled, a wild smile. Wondered if he’d even live to tell this tale. 

The rift burst open, illuminating the hallway in green. Cassiel clutched his hand tightly, spinning on the spot. The demon was upon him, a twisted monstrosity of pale flesh and too many long limbs. He threw out his hand again, shouting as the wild energy of the rift blasted from his anchor into the demon. 

It crashed into the wall, stone cracking, a horrific rasping noise escaping its malformed jaws. For a moment, his surroundings seemed to stabilise, regaining some sense of normalcy. His eyes fell on a nearby door, swung open to reveal another passageway. Then ethereal shrieks filled the air from behind him. Cassiel’s eyes darted to the rift, not even needing to see the demons spilling forth before he flung himself through the doorway, kicking it shut and running again. Now he just needed to get some distance, and figure out his next step. 

Should he try to head for the entrance? But the hallways were changing, so that could be difficult to find. And what the demon had said about his friends… were they in here as well? He thought back to the open rift and cursed under his breath. If they were, that rift was going to hinder them as much as the demon. 

_“If they’re here, we can seal it after. They can handle a few demons. Hopefully there aren’t more in there like this one.”_

*****

Green light blinded them for a moment, Dorian and the two elves skidding to a halt. Dorian held up a hand, staring in shock through his fingers. “A rift?” he said disbelievingly. Dia and Platel looked to each other quickly. “But there aren’t any - ”

The moment he said it, dark forms began clawing their way free from the blazing tear. Dorian clutched his staff tightly, summoning up his magic. A second flash of green caught his eye, before a dark form skirted down a side passage on the other side of the rift. 

“Dorian, did you see - ”

“I saw, Dia.” His eyes turned back to the demons, three shapeless flaming monstrosities slithering toward them. “Get after him,” he said, standing between the rage demons and the elves. “I’ll handle these.”

“I’m not leaving you to fight demons alone!” Dia protested. Dorian rolled his eyes. 

“I have killed countless demons in my time with the inquisition, I think I can handle a few more. Now go!” he shouted, shoving her away. Dia hesitated only a moment longer before racing away, Platel right behind her. One of the rage demons turned its hideous face toward them, and he threw a ball of lightning at it. “Ah ah,” he said, wagging a finger. “Pay attention, would you? I’d be rather insulted if you ignored me.”

Streams of lightning flowed from his hands, the light of his magic contrasting starkly with the rift. He could see more demons climbing out of it, and knew it wouldn’t be long before he was overwhelmed. To his surprise however, they didn’t seem to be noticing him. His eyes focused on the rage demons, one destroyed and melting into a hideous jelly on the stone floor. The others were growing bigger, chuckling maliciously at their bodies flared with flame. 

He drew back a hand, making a quick symbol then launching a ball of bright energy that exploded when it hit the nearest creature, blowing it into a smouldering puddle. The smell was not much nicer than the look. 

The third was upon him when an ear piercing shriek rang out, Dorian shouting in pain, his concentration vaporising. He began skirting back clumsily, expecting to feel the final rage demon’s molten claws in him at any moment, but when he looked up the creature was hunched over, dazed. Before it could recover, a knife planted into its back, ripping down the demon’s spine. It roared as it collapsed, black ichor spraying from the deadly wound. 

Cassiel nearly toppled over himself, barely catching his footing. His hands were coated in various demonic fluids, shaking as he held his knife. He looked to the mage, a smile of relief crossing his face. “Dorian,” he said, stepping toward him with an awkward limp. Dorian took a step back, holding his staff defensively. Cassiel stopped, watching him, then nodded. “The demon… I know. How can I prove it’s me?”

Dorian looked him over slowly. “I saw you run down the passageway,” he said quietly, not letting his eyes leave the elf. Cassiel looked toward it, nodding. 

“These hallways are going all over the place right now. It led me back around to here.”

“How did you manage to run so quickly with a torn hamstring?” he asked, pointing to the bloody gash across his thigh. Cassiel flicked a glance at it, then back to the mage. 

His skin seemed to explode as the demon tore free from its created shell, launching at the mage. Dorian barely managed to fling up a barrier in time, feeling the monster slam into it with supernatural force. He yelled with the effort of keeping the barrier from breaking, eyes glaring into the demon’s face. It still had traces of Cassiel’s form, his dark skin, his vallaslin, and that made seeing it all the more horrific. 

“I will squeeze the last pathetic vestiges of your lover’s will from his mind,” it shrieked, voice twisted and malicious. “I will rip the last of his memories from his brain. I will leave him a _shell_ praying to die. But first, I will tear the flesh from your bones!!”

Dorian threw out his hands, blasting the demon back with a furious shout. More demons were spilling from the rift now. The creature - Dorian was sure now it was an envy demon - looked to the rift, then back to him, before vanishing in a streak of darkness. Dorian growled angrily, watching another stream of demons race toward him. 

He launched them back with another pulse of electrical power. Not enough to kill, or even hurt, but to stun, before spinning and racing away. He couldn’t seal this rift, and he couldn’t waste time on these demons. He had to find the others. He had to find Cassiel. 

*****

“He can’t have gotten this far ahead of us!” Dia shouted. She wasn’t even sure this was the right hallway. As soon as they entered the door it had split in three directions, and she and Platel simply ran down one at random. This place was wholly unnatural, curving back and forth around itself. She began to wonder if she’d be able to find a way out, or if this was an illusion the two of them were trapped in. 

_Slam!_ Dia fell back hard, the wind knocked out of her. Cassandra was stumbling back as well, Iron Bull catching the seeker before she fell. Dia looked up in confusion, though the two looked baffled as well. 

“Dia! How did you two get here?” Platel said as he hauled the elf to her feet. Bull snorted, making a face. 

“Not like this place makes any damn sense,” he said angrily. “Doors and halls and walls appearing and disappearing. This is why I hate magic. And demons. And especially demon magic.”

“We were trying to follow Cassiel,” Dia said quickly. “But this hallway split up. We must’ve gone the wrong way.”

“There’s a rift back there too, an open one,” Platel said, gesturing behind them. “Dorian stayed back to fight off the demons.”

“Then we’ll go back your way,” Cassandra said. “If nothing else, we need to regroup. This place is out of control. And the inquisitor did not come the way we did.”

Dia cursed, but nodded, the four of them hurrying back the way the two elves had come. The walls shook, groaning with shifting stone. Iron Bull growled under his breath. 

“I swear, if we get buried under ten tons of stone, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“You’re gonna be pissed when we’re crushed by rocks?” Dia asked incredulously. 

“Damn right.”

“What the…” Platel slowed, but picked up his pace again when no one else stopped. Dia saw what gave him pause, however. There was a door right ahead of them, despite them running down this hall for several minutes. And no other passageways. She didn’t bother stopping, slamming straight through it, spear in hand. 

There was no rift here. The door had opened into another chamber, and a strange one. Crumbling pillars and rotting old wooden crates were scattered across the room. The remains of various rugs were spread throughout as well, shredded and moldy. She had no idea what this room could have been. 

On the opposite end of the room was an altar, and the crumbled remains of stone chairs. The altar seemed to be in better shape than anything else in the room. 

The four looked about briskly, before Cassandra sighed impatiently. “Well, if this place is a dead end, we may as well go back - ”

The door flew open behind them, and they spun, weapons out. Cassiel almost tripped over himself in his haste to stop, holding his hands up. Dia stared at him hard, hand shaking on her spear but not daring to lower it. 

A long ten seconds of silence passed, Cassiel panting, looking between them all slowly. He looked just as suspicious as they were. Platel growled, shifting on his feet. “This is why I asked the tevinter what we were supposed to do if it looks like Cassiel,” he hissed. Dia didn’t look at him, or respond. 

Darkness shrouded over him. Cassiel’s eyes widened, and he shouted as he was swept back, the door slamming shut. Dia lunged for the door, pulling on it but it wouldn’t open. She cursed, and cursed again as Iron Bull shoved her aside, bringing his axe crashing down on the hinges. In two smashing blows the door was gone, kicked aside as the qunari led them back the way they came. 

*****

Cassiel crashed down to the stone floor, crying out as his back injury was bruised. The demon was on top of him, that wide sadistic grin craning over his face. One long limb held up his leg, and his eyes widened as a claw shredded across his thigh. He screamed in agony, kicking out with his other foot and slamming its jaw. He pulled himself away, struggling to stand, injured leg barely able to hold his weight. He flung his dagger, but it flew through smoke as the demon vanished once again. He slumped back against the wall, breathing heavy, clutching to his thigh tightly. 

Footsteps sent him scrambling for his thrown knife, falling to the ground as his leg gave way. He grabbed the dagger, swinging it up as Dorian came in the room, out of breath, clutching his staff. The two stared at each other, Cassiel dragging himself to his feet. The mage was staring him over, eyes focusing on the bloody wound on his leg. 

“Stop,” Cassiel barked when the mage started forward. “I-I’ll kill you. I will. You must be afraid I can. You keep running from me even now.”

“I’m not the demon,” Dorian said slowly. “But I can’t know that you aren’t.”

Cassiel smirked, chuckling. “What a predicament,” he said with dark humour. He held up the knife, struggling to steady his hand. Exhaustion and pain were catching up to him, not to mention blood loss. “I won’t hesitate. You know that. Weak mortals are easy prey, right? I’ll show you how weak I am.”

He launched himself forward on his good leg, swinging his knife. Dorian jerked back, barely blocking his attack with his staff. Cassiel clutched at his neck with his free hand, missing his grab as he stumbled and clutching at his shirt instead. He slipped, Dorian dropping his staff to catch the inquisitor before he hit the ground. 

Cassiel froze, staring at the mage in shock. Dorian looked back at him, eyes wide. Cassiel’s knifepoint was touching his neck. One nudge was all it would take. Cassiel looked into his eyes, his beautiful brown eyes, seeing himself reflected in them. His hand opened, the knife dropping to the floor. 

“Amatus,” Dorian whispered. Cassiel felt tears burn his eyes. 

“Vhenan,” he said breathlessly. Dorian hugged him close, Cassiel clinging to him, inhaling his scent deeply. Gods, he was real. He was finally real. His shoulders shook with broken laughter. “For gods’ sake Dorian, I swing a knife at you and you catch me?”

Dorian laughed with him, shaking his head. “What the hell kind of demon makes a flimsy charge like that?” 

Cassiel felt a chill enter the room, and he shoved Dorian back. The mage was on his feet in an instant, hands alight with lightning, but they saw nothing. Cassiel found his knife, other hand clutching for Dorian’s sleeve. “Do not leave my sight, vhenan,” he said, struggling to stand once more. “Do you understand me? Do not leave my sight.”

“Same to you, amatus,” Dorian said, eyes still scanning the room. There was nowhere to hide in here, the room littered with broken bits of wood and old stone. He looked to the door, pushing it shut before kneeling beside the elf. “Keep your eyes peeled,” he said, parting the torn cloth on his pant leg. 

Cassiel grit his teeth when he felt the mage’s hand sweep over the gnarled wound. Pain… then relief, like a soft breeze sweeping over him. He looked down briefly to see Dorian fumbling in his pockets, cursing. “I don’t have anything to wrap this with,” he said with a sigh. “I can stop the bleeding for now, but it’ll reopen once you start moving.”

“I’ll live,” Cassiel said, but Dorian shook his head. 

“No no. I thought of something.” He took Cassiel’s knife from his hand, slicing free one of his sleeves. The elf looked at him in surprise as he shredded the cloth into pieces, putting the dagger back in his hand before tying it around Cassiel’s leg. 

“You must be a keeper. You sacrificed one of your outfits for me.”

Dorian tutted, but grinned. “I suppose your welfare is more important than my vanity.” He straightened, kissing him softly. “We still need to find the demon, not to mention the others,” he said, flicking his hand to his staff. It flew into his palm. “Also, I believe there is a rift you may know something about?”

Cassiel chuckled, wincing as he followed Dorian to the doorway. His leg still hurt when he walked, but at least it could hold his weight. “I suppose it would be polite of me to clean up after myself.”


	9. Success and Failure

“How the hell did we get back here?” Cassandra said in frustration. Dia let out a long breath, leaning her hands on her knees to catch her breath. Racing through these ruins was exhausting. More exhausting than it should have been. 

They were back in the altar room, where they had found Cassiel for the briefest of moments before he was swept away. At least, she was fairly sure it had been him. Platel was at her side, nervously holding his spear as he scanned the room over. 

“More doors this time,” he noted quietly. Dia nodded. To their left and right were two more doors, leading who knew where. Cassandra shook her head, looking back the way they came before stepping deeper into the room.

“Perhaps there is something here,” she said uncertainly. “Let’s search, quickly.”

Dia nodded, the four of them separating to look over the room. Dia headed for the altar, circling it curiously. She wondered if it were real, and elven. Was it magical? She ran her fingers across the top of it. 

She gasped when Platel appeared at her side, glowering at the elf impatiently. “Platel, you’re supposed to be searching,” she growled. He made a face, eyes flickering over the room. 

“What is there to search?” he said. “Broken boxes and an old altar. What are we going to do?” He was sweating, both hands clutching to his spear tightly. Dia sighed, patting his shoulder soothingly. This was not something she could expect him to face bravely. He was a fisher and a fixer. He knew the very basics of combat, but had only ever used it to fight animals. He would have quailed in the face of bandits, let alone demons. 

“We’ll save him, Platel. And then we’ll get out of here.”

The door to their right swung open. Her eyes turned to see Dorian creep into the room, freezing when he saw the four turn their weapons on him. He grinned, leaning in the doorway. 

“Always nice to see friendly faces,” he said lightly. Cassandra stepped closer, sword still raised. 

“We know the demon is a shape changer. How can we know you’re really Dorian?” she said suspiciously. The mage chuckled. 

“Well, I suppose you would have to ask me something only I would know,” he said passively, looking at his fingernails. “It’s not like the demon spent days digging through my mind, so it couldn’t possibly have any memories of me.”

“Is the inquisitor a top or a bottom?” Iron Bull asked. Dorian burst out laughing as Cassandra made a noise of disgust. Dia and Platel just stared at the qunari quizzically.

“Is that really the question to ask here?” the seeker said incredulously. Bull shrugged, chuckling with the mage. 

“It’s not just about the answer, it’s about how he reacts,” he said simply. “And Dorian would have reacted just like that. So it’s probably him.” He shifted his feet, still holding his axe. “Y’know, probably.”

“‘Probably’ will do,” Dorian said, easing his way further into the room. He was leaning on his staff, favouring one of his legs. Dia looked at him in concern. 

“Are you all right?” she asked. Dorian nodded to her, smiling reassuringly. 

“One of the rage demons got a hit on me. I’ll be fine.”

Dia noticed a flicker of Iron Bull’s eye right before another door opened. She stared in shock as Cassiel and another Dorian ran in, the inquisitor leaning heavily on the mage. They froze when they caught sight of Dorian’s double, and for several moments all was silent, everyone simply staring at each other. 

Dorian, the first one, lit up his hands with lightning. “Get away from him!” he shouted, threatening his twin. Cassiel jerked back from the mage he was leaning on, looking between the two sharply. The second looked to the elf, then back to his double. 

“You can’t be serious. Amatus, you know it’s me,” he said, keeping his eyes trained in himself. Cassiel looked conflicted, shaking his head. 

“He had the chance to kill me, and didn’t,” he said softly, gesturing to the mage. The first Dorian grit his teeth, stepping closer. 

“Don’t you understand? The demon still needs you, Cassiel. He needs the last of your memories so he can take over your form for good.”

Dia wasn’t sure what to do. Her eyes shot between the two mages, heart pounding. Her brother looked exhausted, ears tipped back, limping back a few feet. The Dorian he came in with looked to him painfully. 

Lightning wreathed the room, crashing into the second mage and throwing him to the floor. Cassiel flung his dagger with a shout at the first Dorian, a blast of energy knocking it aside. The tevinter looked at him softly. 

“I’ll forgive that, darling. I know you’re confused right now,” he said softly. Cassiel stared at him hard, then to the mage on the ground, picking himself up slowly. Dia saw Cassiel’s expression flicker. He stepped away from the Dorian he came in with, limping toward the mage. 

“... I think you’re right,” he said quietly. Dorian gave a relieved sigh, stepping closer to give him a hand. 

Cassiel lunged, grabbing him by the collar and slamming their foreheads together. Dorian shouted, an ethereal shriek that split their eardrums. Cassiel crashed to the ground, his leg giving way under him. Dorian glared down at him, barely ducking under Bull’s axe as it swung at him. 

Dia flung her spear, but the moment it left her hand it tripled. She blinked in confusion as it flew straight through the mage, all three of him, laughing wildly as they shed their form and stretched toward the ceiling. 

A pulse knocked her off her feet, and for a terrifying second when she hit the ground all of her senses seemed to die. A brief moment of silent dead darkness and then it was all back at once, and she was laying flat on the stone ground. 

She pushed herself to her feet, looking around quickly. Iron Bull and Cassandra were still nearby, roughly picking themselves back up. Platel groaned in pain, hugging his spear as though his life depended on it. Dorian was the only one still standing, gently helping the inquisitor get back on his feet. 

“Is everyone real this time?” Dia asked wearily. Cassiel leaned heavily on the mage, rubbing his forehead gingerly. 

“Seems so.”

“What the hell happened?” Platel asked, finally getting himself back up. “I saw… There were suddenly so many of him, and then that pulse…”

“It was a wild array of illusions,” Dorian explained, bringing himself and the inquisitor back to the group. “But weak ones. The pulse was me. Just a wave of energy meant to knock all the illusions away.”

“How’d you know he was the demon?” Dia asked, rubbing her brother’s back. He was covered in wounds, most of them wrapped awkwardly with torn bits of clothing. Cassiel chuckled. 

“A few things, but mostly…” He rubbed his thigh painfully. “His leg. I gouged it early on. He can cover it up, but it’s still hurting him. Still, I had to play it up a bit so I could get close.” He nodded to Iron Bull. “Glad you were on to him too, big guy.”

The qunari chuckled. “It couldn’t have been the real Dorian. Didn’t whine nearly enough about his injuries.”

“Oh thank you so much,” Dorian said dryly. Cassandra cleared her throat. 

“This is all very charming, but we still need to find it and kill it,” she said shortly. “And close the rift. Inquisitor, what is our next move?”

Cassiel grinned, leaning his head on Dorian’s shoulder. “There’s no way it’s going to face us head-on,” Cassiel said, eyes sliding shut. “The entire time I’ve been here, it’s been flashing in and out, wearing me down. It knows it’s too weak to defeat us face to face. I think it’s been trying to get us to fight each other.” Cassiel lifted his head, opening his eyes. “Regardless, as a group, it will not fight us. And I doubt we can get back outside right now, with all these illusions.”

“I could lead us out, with a concerted effort,” Dorian said. “There is another concern to consider. This envy demon will likely try to run if it feels it can’t win. Perhaps back through the rift, if it can. And one this intelligent will be a danger if it escapes. Either it’ll try to impersonate you again, or take someone else powerful.”

Cassiel nodded. “Okay. Then our plan is this: Dorian, lead us through the illusions back to the rift. It needs to be closed one way or another, and this cuts off a potential escape route. After that…” He shrugged. “We’ll think about that when we get to it.”

He limped a few feet away, picking his knife up off the ground. He looked at it for a few moments, taking in a slow breath, then turned to the others. “And… thank you for coming back for me,” he said softly. Dia smiled, shaking her head. 

“We can’t have two of you running around, can we?”

“I’m glad you’re all right, inquisitor,” Cassandra said. Cassiel grinned, taking hold of Dorian’s shoulder as the mage walked to his side again. 

“We’ll lead. Dorian, get us to the rift.”

*****

Cassiel lost track of how much time passed. He was exhausted, and in pain, just clinging to Dorian’s shoulder to keep moving. At least the mage seemed to know where they were going, brow furrowed with concentration. 

He was relieved to finally be back with his friends. Despite his weariness, despite his legs threatening to give out under him, he felt hopeful, confident now that he was no longer alone. They had come back for him. And now they just needed to kill the demon and get out. 

Dorian stopped them as they reached the end of one of numerous twisting pathways. He tapped the wood. “The rift is beyond here,” he said. “At least, I can’t imagine what else would be putting off this much demonic energy.”

“Hopefully not a second rift,” Dia said dryly. Cassiel chuckled. 

“Think we could be so lucky?” he asked over his shoulder. 

“We’ve definitely been lucky so far.”

Cassandra and Iron Bull moved up to the front of the procession, Dorian easing the inquisitor back with him. Dia stepped up behind them, shaking her head to Platel when he started to follow. 

“We’re front lines for the demons, Platel,” she said. “Stay back and watch Cassiel and Dorian.”

Before Platel could say a word Iron Bull shoved the door open, charging out with a roar. Cassandra was right behind, and Dia leapt in with only a moment’s hesitation. Cassiel gripped Dorian’s shoulder, eyes wide. 

“She’s not fought demons before.”

“We’ll keep her safe. Come on.” Dorian half lifted the inquisitor, hurrying out the door as the demonic shrieks filled the air. He pushed the inquisitor to the wall roughly, spinning to face the horde that had spilled from the rift. 

Rage and fear demons flooded over them, but they were ready. Bull and Cassandra cut a swath through them, Cassandra at his back as the qunari crashed his heavy axe into their monstrous bodies. Dia followed their lead, bringing her spear down on the head of a stumbling demon and smashing it like a ripe fruit. She grinned, eyes flashing, turning to face the next. Lightning coursed over the battlefield, stunning some and bursting through others. 

Platel pinned back to the wall next to Cassiel, clutching his spear. The shrieks and noise of battle had to be overwhelming. Cassiel looked to him, still holding his knife. The elf was frozen, eyes wide. 

“How do they face it?” he whispered. Cassiel chuckled. 

“It takes time,” he said, eyes turning to the rift. It was weakening, sparking as the demons collapsed around it. He sheathed his dagger, gripping Platel’s shoulder. “Hold me up. This is gonna take a lot out of me.”

Platel grabbed his arm tightly. Cassiel flung out his hand, and once more a green light blazed from his anchor to the rift. He grit his teeth, focusing, sweat beading on his forehead. The link flickered, but he held on, until finally - 

The rift sealed with a burst of energy, throwing the remaining demons to the ground. Iron Bull laughed triumphantly, bringing his axe down with even more gusto. Cassandra hopped from one to the next quickly, sword slicing through them before they could recover. 

“Move out of the way!” Dorian called out, electrical energy building in his hands. The three skirted out of the way, Bull grabbing Dia when she paused in confusion. Dorian threw out both hands, a wave of energy tearing through the prone demons. Screams rang through the air, dark ichor bursting from their bodies. 

All at once, it was silent. Cassiel panted, flopping back against the wall. Platel looked to him in concern, stepping back when Dorian reached him. The mage stroked a gentle hand over his head. 

“You didn’t have the energy for that,” he scolded. “You should have waited until I could help you.”

“I’m not made of glass, vhenan,” Cassiel teased. He shifted his shoulders, grunting. “Even if you’re probably right.”

“So that’s one problem down,” Iron Bull said, wiping his axe blade clean with a rag. “Now the demon. The envy demon you said, right Dorian?”

“Nice to know someone pays attention to me, yes.” 

“What the fuck is an envy demon?” Cassiel asked, chuckling. Dorian raised a brow. 

“You should know better than any of us by now, amatus.” He sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “Well, since we have a moment… Envy demons are exceptionally rare. It’s why I never even considered one would be here. As we’ve seen, physically they are not very powerful… But their skill at illusion and shape changing is nearly unmatched.” He looked to Cassiel softly. “They seek to take over a person’s life. Not possess. They sap every memory from your head until they can match your personality perfectly. They do this out of a desire for power, but they are never really satisfied. There is always someone out there more powerful, with more strength and resources at hand. Cassiel may not be the first person it’s tried to take over.”

“So it may have come here to get closer to me,” Cassiel said, nodding slowly. “We just happened to fall on it before it could do whatever it was planning.”

“That we caught it by surprise may be the only reason it failed,” Dorian mused. His expression was troubled as he said it. Cassiel reached out to stroke his cheek. 

“Hey, you don’t know that. Try to relax, hon.” He drew himself up a little, trying to look imposing but failing when he had to lean on Dorian once more to remain standing. “All right, next part of the plan. We need to draw the demon out.”

“Now that the rift is no longer a concern, we could retreat, wait out the demon from outside the ruins where it doesn’t have the advantage,” Cassandra suggested. Cassiel made a face. 

“Could we? Why would it even need to leave? And for all we know, it could have another way out. I don’t want to risk losing it, not after all this.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to say something that makes me deeply unhappy?” Dorian said sourly. Cassiel grinned, pinching his cheek. 

“Because you know me extremely well.”

“Cassiel, don’t you dare suggest being used as bait,” Dia said testily. 

“Of course not, Dia, we’re going to use _you_ as bait. Since it clearly wants you above all else.” 

“Inquisitor, ignoring the fact that we just barely saved you from this monster,” Cassandra started, though by her miffed tone she was clearly not ignoring it. “You don’t think it would suspect some sort of a trap like that?”

“Sure it would. It’s also desperate.” Cassiel eyed their surroundings. “Everything’s been more stable for a while. It’s tiring out. Otherwise we wouldn’t have all found each other in the same room. We keep pushing it, and it’ll flee. But give it one more shot to get me, and it just might take it.”

“It might want us all dead by now,” Platel said quietly. “After everything that’s happened, we would never just trust that the elf before us was Cassiel. Not without testing it.”

“Good point. Maybe we really are all vulnerable then,” Cassiel said thoughtfully. “But I’m still the best choice. I’m the weakest one here right now.”

The others all looked to each other in resignation. Cassiel knew what they were thinking. He was sure there could be a better plan, a safer plan, but there wasn’t much time. And he wasn’t sure he could stay conscious for too much longer. This was the only thing he could think of right now. Even if he deeply didn’t want to do it either. 

Cassandra sighed, then nodded. “... very well. How are we going to do this?”

Cassiel nodded back down the hallway, toward the entrance. Well, toward what he hoped was the entrance. “We’ll go back. Maybe make it seem like we’re leaving. There’s a lot of rooms there, plenty of space for me to get ‘separated’.” 

Dorian wrapped an arm around him, taking the lead once more in case there were more illusions to sift through. Cassandra and Iron Bull were right behind them, weapons still in hand, then Dia, and behind her Platel. Cassiel was panting from pain, trying to focus through it, but his entire leg burned with agony, and it felt as though some of the wounds on his chest had reopened. He would have to ask Dorian to use some of his magic before they sprung their trap, or he might not be able to move. 

Up ahead he could see the wide stone entrance. Here was where he had been flung into the dark shell by the demon. It felt like days ago now. 

Tapping in the hallway. Cassiel turned his head, seeing Platel stop to look behind them. His heart leapt as a sheen flew up between the elf and the rest of the group. “No!!” he shouted, shoving away from Dorian and nearly toppling to the ground. Platel stared at the barrier, eyes wide and terrified. Iron Bull was already swinging his axe, the barrier making a deafening _CLANG_ as the metal struck it. 

“Platel!” Cassiel slammed his fists into the impenetrable curtain. Platel clutched to his spear, looking around fearfully as a dark shroud began gathering over his head. Cassiel spun to Dorian, words on his tongue, but the mage was already gathering energy in his hands. He turned back to see the elf clouded in shadow. 

“I’m going to kill you,” Cassiel hissed, face contorted in rage. “I’m going to kill you for everything you’ve done.”

A flash of a malicious grin in the shadow was all he saw before Platel was swept away.


	10. Finale

“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I got him killed too.”

Dia dragged Cassiel back from the barrier as Dorian pulled up more and more magic. His hands were blinding with the accumulated energy. Cassiel just stared at where Platel had been standing, his spear lying dropped on the floor. 

“He shouldn’t have even fucking been here. I told him. I told him not to come here.”

“Cassiel, this isn’t your fault,” Dia said firmly. “You need to focus right now.”

“He was fucking terrified!” Cassiel snapped. “I should have sent him back out the moment we had the chance!”

Dorian threw his hands forward, blazing energy engulfing the barrier. It glowed brightly, then cracked, shattering like glass. The shards vanished before they hit the ground. 

“Look, this isn’t the time for this,” Dia said quickly. She grabbed the elf by the shoulders, making him look at her. “We have to find the demon and kill it, before it can kill Platel.”

“He’s probably already dead,” Cassiel said darkly. “Platel was right. It’ll kill all of you. Then I can be three for three on dead lovers.”

The slap to his cheek was so hard he saw stars. If not for Cassandra catching him with a startled shout he would have hit the ground. Cassiel held his jaw, staring at Dia in shock. She was breathing hard, hand still upraised, glaring at him with a fury in her eyes. 

“If you think I’m going to let you sink into another well of self hatred, you are wrong,” she said, voice heated. “And if you think I’m going to let you waste time with self pity, you’re even further from the fucking truth.” She gripped him the arms, hauling him back to his feet. Cassiel just stared at her. “Platel is still alive, and so is Dorian, so don’t you dare give up now,” she said, the words biting into him. 

Cassiel blinked, looking to the others. Shame filled his chest at their faces. Especially Dorian’s. Cassiel swallowed hard, turning back to Dia and nodding. He took in a deep breath, straightening himself, but grabbing ahold of her arm to take the weight off his leg. 

“You’re right. You’re right.” He turned to the others, expression determined. “Listen to me. You are not going to like this, but I don’t have time to argue it.” He looked to Dia, seeing her hard stare, then back to the others. “We’re splitting up into three groups. Cassandra and Iron Bull, Dia and Dorian. I’ll be alone.” He swiped a hand when the protests started. “Enough! I can’t keep up to any of you. With my leg, I will only slow us down. Split up, and find Platel. I’ve survived this long. I will survive longer.” His eyes met Bull’s, then Cassandra’s. Hoping they understood. “Now go. Immediately.” 

He let go of Dia’s arm, letting the elf race off down the hallway. Dorian stared at him hard, and Cassiel could barely meet his eyes. The mage swallowed hard and ran off after his sister. Cassandra and Iron Bull watched him a moment longer before leaving as well. Cassiel stayed where he was, taking in a long breath. He turned his eyes toward the entrance, then back to where they had entered. His memory was foggy, but he thought he remembered the way back to the altar room. 

He limped to where Platel’s spear had fallen, kneeling to pick it up painfully. Using it to support his weight somewhat, he pushed himself back the way they came. Hoping the raw anger within him could keep him going. 

*****

Platel hit the ground heavily on his ribs, grunting when the wind was knocked out of him. He scrabbled away, pulling himself to his feet as the demon materialised before him. It took the form of Cassiel, matching everything down to his torn clothing and wounds. Platel backed away, wishing he had his spear, or any sort of weapon. 

The demon grinned at him. “You have nothing to fear from me, Platel,” it said in Cassiel’s gentle voice. “I have no interest in harming you. You’re just an elf in the wrong place at the wrong time, aren’t you?”

Platel felt his back hit something. He glanced behind himself at the altar. His eyes skirted the room, wondering if any of the rotted wood was still in good enough shape to be used as a weapon. He doubted it very much. He looked back to the demon, swallowing as it approached him. 

“I told you, you have nothing to fear,” he said again, voice still gentle. “Do you know, there are a lot of memories of you in Cassiel’s head. A lot of thoughts and feelings and emotions.” Platel looked away, hands gripping the stone altar behind him. “You knew him very well, didn’t you? Loved and cared for him as any man would. And then he turned away from you.”

“What are you trying to do,” Platel said quietly. Cassiel - the demon - grinned to him sympathetically, raising a hand to him. 

“I’m offering a proposal, of course. Demons can be reasonable, you know. We’re not all slavering morons.” He sneered. “Like the fools released from the rift. There was a reason that was sealed.” He looked back to Platel. “What if I could give Cassiel back to you?”

Platel blinked. His fingers tightened on the stone. “What… are you talking about?”

He - It - smiled to him. “When I have all of the inquisitor’s memories on my head, who will be able to tell the difference between him and I? No one. Only I’ll be more powerful, capable of so much more than he. And you… Well, who wouldn’t want to have the dalish at their side?”

Platel stared at him in shock. “Wait… You’re offering to…” He laughed bitterly. “You think I’d fuck a demon just because you look like Cassiel? I’m afraid I’m not that des - ” He cut off as a clawed hand latched over his throat. Cassiel’s smile had turned malicious, long tongue licking over pointed teeth. 

“Is it not preferable to being strung up by your entrails?” he said, chuckling deep in his chest. Platel swallowed hard, feeling the raw power behind the hand clutching his throat. It could probably crush his neck with a single squeeze. 

“N-No true dalish would s-surrender to a demon’s corruption,” he said hoarsely. His heart was pounding in his chest. “Torture me if you must. I won’t b-betray my people.”

The demon looked him over, still smiling, studying his expression. Platel met his eyes, glaring at him as best he could. He was terrified, gods yes he was terrified. But he refused to give in to a demon. Refused to hurt his people. Cassiel - the demon - stroked over his cheek gently, making him shiver. 

A clawed hand gripped his face, Platel barely able to sputter a shocked cry before flashes of imagery tore through his mind. Flashes of red, blood spraying, a malicious grin and arms holding him to the ground - 

Platel jolted, gasping, slapping the demon’s hand away. He laughed, stepping back from the elf, flicking drops of blood from his fingers. Platel touched his face gingerly, feeling where his skin had been cut into. 

“That I had time to toy with you now,” the demon said in amusement. “But first, I have to finish my business with your old lover… Think things over while I’m away, would you? I don’t give up easily.” 

The demon vanished into smoke. Platel let out a shuddering breath, leaning heavily against the altar. The images flashing through his brain had left him shaken. What had that been? A threat? An illusion to weaken his resolve? 

_“Focus. Gotta get out of here.”_ He looked around quickly. The doors were still here, one before him and two on his right and left. He started toward one then hesitated. This place was still a maze, and he was alone. It would be all too easy to find himself lost. Would it be better to wait instead, and let the others find him?

_“They will come back for me, won’t they?”_ He shivered, remembering Cassiel’s face when the barrier separated them. Panic, fear, then utter rage. He made a shaky laugh, running a hand over his face. So he still cared, then. Platel wasn’t sure if that made him happy or bitter. Still, he was sure Cassiel and Dia would come for him, then. Besides, the demon still needed to be dealt with. 

A flicker in his mind. A flash of memory, pain and a mask of crimson. Clutching to his face in pain, laughs echoing around him - 

Platel shook his head fiercely. It wasn’t a real memory. He needed to concentrate. Alone, it would be better to wait. The tevinter could find his way through illusions. Platel looked around the room, sneering a little at the idea that he was putting his survival in the hands of that mage. He began to sift through the crumbled wooden boxes, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon - 

_Blade cut through his lips, into his gums, blood in his mouth, chokes and can’t scream, the hand pinning his face to the ground -_

Platel found himself rubbing his lip subconsciously and growled in frustration. He straightened, kicking the rotten box aside. He needed to focus. If the demon came back, he needed to be prepared. A weapon, a plan, anything - 

_Teeth on his ear, a dark sadistic voice whispering, hands holding down his arms -_

He found himself frozen again the middle of the room, eyes unfocused. His cheeks burned, ears tipping back. He touched his lip again, pieces falling into place. Another memory was hovering in his head. The night Cassiel gave him back his ring, staring up at him with a hollow gaze. The barely healed gash across his eye and mouth. 

“This memory is Cassiel’s,” he said breathlessly. 

The door opened, and he spun on the spot, raising his fists in lieu of any other weapon. His eyes widened when he saw Cassiel, the elf limping inside cautiously, leaning heavily on Platel’s spear. Worn exhausted eyes fell on him, lighting up slightly but still wary. His gaze quickly darted over the rest of the room before falling back on Platel. 

“If you’re the demon, I don’t have the strength left to fight you,” he said, pushing himself further into the room. Platel could see blood leaking through the makeshift bandage tied around his leg. “So I’m going to have to trust you’re Platel this time.”

“It’s me,” he said, stepping closer before freezing. He watched the elf suspiciously. “But then, I don’t know it’s you either. The demon has the same leg injury.”

“True,” Cassiel said, letting out a heavy breath. He limped his way to the altar, collapsing his weight on it with a relieved sigh. He let the spear drop with a clatter, panting. His skin was pale, sweat coating his face. He was stretched to his limit. If it really was Cassiel. 

The elf kicked the spear toward Platel with his good leg, Platel jerking in surprise as it rolled to him. “Here’s a weapon,” Cassiel said, words tinged with amusement. “You’re scared, I know, but it’ll be of more use to you than me right now.”

Platel knelt down to pick it up, keeping his eyes on Cassiel. A few moments of silence passed, Platel glancing to the open door. He gripped his spear tightly. “Where are the others?” he asked. Cassiel shook his head. 

“I’m not sure. Looking for you. We split up.” Cassiel awkwardly sat up on the altar, rubbing his leg painfully. “I went alone. I can’t keep up to any of them right now. I didn’t know if you’d even be here. I’m... relieved you’re safe.”

Platel stepped closer, still wary but… “The demon spoke to me,” he said softly. Cassiel looked to him. “He wanted me to work with him,” he continued, watching for the elf’s reaction. Cassiel nodded slowly. 

“He has memories of you from my head. He might try to use them against you. Find something you want.” 

Platel felt a pang in his chest as Cassiel said it. Could he know what the demon had offered him? Had he seen this sort of thing before? Platel lowered his eyes, swallowing as a flash of red tore through his mind. He looked to Cassiel painfully. 

“It gave me a memory.” Cassiel said nothing, watching him. “It showed me the bandits.” The elf’s eyes flickered then, turning away. “I saw - ”

“No.” His voice was firm, almost angry. Platel looked at him in surprise. “Whatever it showed you was likely twisted and malformed. It’s trying to throw you off, weaken you. Forget what you saw.”

“Cassiel - ”

“I said no!” the elf shouted, voice cracking. Platel jerked back, clutching to his spear. Cassiel looked away with a heavy breath, panting slightly. 

“What a lovely reunion…” Platel spun, gasping as the demon reappeared in a cloud of smoke. It was taking Cassiel’s form once more, but no longer wounded. His clothes were neat and perfect, gashes healed. He looked to Platel, grinning that charming smile he had. “And this is the man you would die for, Platel? Even when you hold the truth, he will lie.”

“Don’t fall for this pathetic garbage, Platel,” Cassiel said wearily, words tinged with anger. The elf slid off the altar, still leaning his weight on it. “Demons lie. All of them lie. Anything to twist you into doing what they want.”

“I don’t need to lie when the truth will do.” The demon stepped closer to the ragged elf, still limping. Cassiel tensed. “I may not have all the memories I wish, inquisitor, but I have all I need of this precious little elf. Your thoughts, your feelings. Your anger and hatred. Tell him the truth, Cassiel. Tell him how he disgusts you.”

“That isn’t true,” Cassiel started, but the demon cut him off. 

“Tell him how his touch and voice repulses you. Tell him how when you looked into his eyes that fateful night, you felt nothing but sickness. Tell him. Or shall I do it all myself?”

Platel felt his grip shaking. He didn’t know what to do. Attack? Could he even fight it? Did Cassiel have a plan? The demon was stepping ever closer to the elf, mere feet away from him. Cassiel didn’t move, just glared at it, but his hands were quivering where they held the altar. The demon looked to Platel, still smiling, his eyes gentle and sympathetic. 

“Platel knows I’m telling the truth. He knows because he could see it every time you withdrew from him. Isn’t that right, Platel?”

Platel looked between the two, eyes burning. Trying to ignore its words. He pointed his spear to the demon, gritting his teeth. “It doesn’t matter,” he hissed. “E-Even if he treated me like shit, you’re still a demon. And no true dalish will submit to a demon.”

The demon looked to his spear, than to him. He nodded, and the smile twisted on his face. “I understand,” he said. “Unfortunately, I already got what I wanted.” Only then did Platel notice how close he was to the inquisitor. The demon latched a hand to his face, sick red pulsing from his fingers. 

Platel screamed with the inquisitor, charging with his spear. The demon swiped the air, a flash of white throwing him to the ground. Platel scrambled for his spear, flung to the floor, shouting in rage when he slammed his head into a thin barrier. He threw himself to his feet, staring in shock at the sheen surrounding him. He was trapped. The demon still had Cassiel in his grip, the elf clutching to his hand. 

A blast of lightning illuminated the room, the demon shrieking as it burned into its back. The demon spun, eyes widening when Dorian and Dia raced through the door. Dia charged without hesitation, swinging her spear. It twisted its body hideously out of the way, shedding the inquisitor’s form as it scrabbled away from the two. 

Iron Bull and Cassandra burst in another door, cutting it off. Platel stared in shock as the four boxed in the demon, expressions determined and resolute. The demon scrabbled back, elongated limbs outstretched, pulsing with magic. Dorian flung out a hand, unseen energy sending it crashing into the stone wall. Iron Bull charged with a roar, swinging his axe. It split the wall as the demon ducked, sliding like a pale fleshed worm from the qunari, and screaming as a flung spear tore through its spindly chest. 

Cassandra was upon it now, and this time the demon did not dodge quickly enough, shrieking as the seeker’s sword sliced through its arm. It collapsed to the ground, squirming and shrieking, Dia tearing the spear from its body. With an enraged howl she brought it down on the creature’s head, splitting it apart. 

*****

Cassiel could almost feel the demon’s death when finally its wretched heart stopped beating. He was nearly collapsed on the altar, breathing heavily, but he forced a shaky smile as he looked at the envy demon’s hideous dead form. It was over. It was finally over. 

All at once his friends were there, Dorian carefully hoisting him to his feet, Dia checking him over for wounds. She touched his chin tentatively, and he grit his teeth, feeling like it was burned. 

“Are you all right, inquisitor?” Cassandra asked. Cassiel chuckled, nodding. 

“Exhausted, ready to fall into a coma, but yes, I’m all right.” He touched his face. That last attack by the demon had felt like his head was going to explode. Maybe it would have. He felt Dorian’s gentle touch, and relief as his magic swept over him. His leg still burned with agony, but the rest of the pain was gone. He looked around slowly. “Why is the demon’s realm still here?”

“It’ll stay until the surrounding magical energy can no longer sustain it,” Dorian said. “Probably only a few minutes. The illusions will be gone now, however. And likely the barrier, unless it was really a construct of the ruins.”

“Now that the demon’s dead, the barrier isn’t as much of a worry,” Dia said, looking back to the dead creature. “Dorian can still get us out, and no huge rush this time.”

“Beyond how much I wish to leave? But you are right, otherwise.” Dorian embraced the inquisitor gently. Cassiel wanted nothing more than to collapse in his arms and let himself sleep. He leaned on the mage’s shoulder, letting out a long breath. 

“Hey…” Platel stepped past them, looking to the far wall. “That door wasn’t there before.” 

All heads turned to follow his gaze. Cassiel cocked his head when he saw the new wooden door. “So there was something he kept hidden right until the end,” he said in amusement. He made to move toward it, but stopped when his leg twinged painfully. “Let’s look.” 

“You’re half dead and still curious, of course,” Dorian muttered. Cassiel grinned. 

“It’s dead, my love. Besides, there could be something illuminating in there.”

Cassandra led the group toward the door. She held her sword out cautiously as she approached it, glancing to Dorian. 

“Any demonic energy?” she asked. Dorian shook his head. She nodded, pushing the door open. 

Dia gasped. Cassiel simply stared. There was very little in the room, tiny and barren, but for the cracked and empty frame in the middle of the floor. Cassandra and Iron Bull looked at the elves, curious to their reactions. 

“It looks like a broken mirror,” the seeker said. Cassiel shook his head. 

“Good thing it is. That’s an eluvian.” He nudged Dorian to bring him in closer. The mage eased him into the room. The others followed, surrounding the broken frame. Cassiel glanced around the room. “It must have broken ages ago. I don’t see any remnants.”

“Perhaps this was part of the demon’s plan,” Dia said softly. “Could it have used the inquisition’s resources to fix this?”

“I don’t know. But I suppose we’d be one of the best options to try.” Cassiel let out a long breath. “Cassandra, I want this moved to Skyhold. But secretly. Only our inner circle can be involved. I won’t leave this out in the wild for some other demon to fall across. Or worse.”

“Yes inquisitor,” she said, but her voice was garbled as the air before them warped. Cassiel blinked, squinting as his vision seemed to bend. 

A pulse echoed in his head, and he heard his companions’ startled voices as everything went dark for a brief moment. He blinked again, eyes clearing. He looked around in confusion. Something felt… different. 

“Well, the demon’s realm is gone now,” Dorian said, shaking his head. 

“Couldn’t have warned us it would feel like our brains popping?” Iron Bull said in irritation. 

Cassiel felt dizzy. He wavered, Dorian tightening his grip on his arm and looking to him worriedly. “Amatus?” he said. His voice sounded so distant. 

It was though all at once the fatigue of days trapped in the ruins had hit him. His throat burned with thirst, his stomach clawed at his insides. Whatever had kept him from feeling those biological needs, it was gone now. His legs gave way, collapsing hard to his knees. 

“Cassiel!” Dorian said in alarm. He wanted to say something assuring, but his vision was swimming, barely able to register his friends rushing to his side. 

He could no longer fight his exhaustion. Consciousness swept from him, and the last thing he remembered was someone clutching at his shoulders, calling his name.


	11. Respite

Cassiel came to groggily, groaning as his stiff muscles came to life. He started to sit up, but a hand pressed to his chest, laying him back down. “Don’t move too much, amatus.” 

Cassiel took a breath, trying to take in his surroundings. A wave of relief hit him upon seeing the trees around them, hearing the gentle sounds of wind and rain. Cassiel could see they had strung up a wide bit of canvas to keep him dry and sheltered. And of course, Dorian crouched over him, eyes concerned and studying him. 

“So we got out, then?” Cassiel said hoarsely, chuckling. Dorian smiled. 

“Yes we did. And this is the second time you’ve asked me that. You don’t remember awakening then?”

Cassiel shook his head. He eased himself up on his elbows, taking another look around. Past the tevinter he could see another tent, the chargers huddled inside it. Iron Bull was pacing around the flickering campfire idly, tossing bits of twigs into it. No one else was in sight. He laid back down, letting out a long breath. 

“Did I do anything stupid I don’t remember?”

Dorian laughed, rubbing the elf’s cheek. “Do you remember everything we did in the ruins? Because that was one hell of a shitshow.” He sighed, running a hand over his head. “You’ve woken up twice since you passed out. Once as we were leaving. You made a brave attempt at trying to get out of my arms but fell unconscious before you could escape.” Cassiel snickered. “And then once more a few hours ago. We managed to get you to eat something. You asked if we got out, then said a few things in elven and passed out again. Dia said it was gibberish but also her face turned red with embarrassment and Platel actually laughed, so I don’t entirely believe her.”

“Fuck. I wish I remembered that.” He rested an arm over his chest, wincing and moving it away again. He raised his head, lifting the blanket he was under to look himself over. Most of his clothes were gone, though they had barely been remnants anyway, his wounds cleaned and bandaged. At least he still had his breeches on. He sighed, dropping the blanket. “Well, good thing I brought a spare set of clothing.”

Dorian nestled down beside him, touching a hand to his cheek. Cassiel looked to him, meeting his soft brown eyes. Dorian sighed, turning away. 

“There were so many times I thought I had lost you,” he said softly. Cassiel clenched his jaw. “So many times I thought, this is it! This is where I finally lose him forever.” He shut his eyes, then looked back to the elf. “Why did you go into those blasted ruins? Alone?”

Cassiel furrowed his brow. “Are you blaming me for this?” he said incredulously. Dorian sat up, pulling away from him. Cassiel pushed himself up painfully, holding back a growl as his wounds screamed at him. “You may as well say what you’re thinking, Dorian,” Cassiel snapped, when the mage remained silent. “You already started.”

“Of course I don’t blame you,” he said quietly. “It’s hardly your fault an envy demon got the drop on you. Hardly your fault you wandered into ancient elven ruins without any backup, any knowledge of what you were doing.” He laughed bitterly. “Got trapped behind an impenetrable barrier! And then you still waltz right into the bloody ruins themselves. What the hell were you thinking?”

“Oh I’m sorry. I suppose I should have sat inside the barrier twiddling my thumbs, waiting for the fucking demon to come to me.” Cassiel seethed, glowering at the mage’s back. “What, I’m supposed to predict a barrier trap? A fucking demon realm?”

“If you’d let me come with you, I would have sensed all of this!” Dorian turned to the elf sharply, eyes flashing. 

“You don’t need to be at my side every second of the day, Dorian,” Cassiel said, looking away. Dorian rolled his eyes. 

“Well apparently I do, because the moment I take my eyes off you - ”

“Do you think I did this on purpose?” Cassiel shouted. He tried to push himself to his feet, but his leg gave way under him. Dorian caught him, gently supporting him on his knees. Cassiel started to push him off, but gave up immediately. He wanted to be held. “You think what I wanted was to… to run into a fucking creature like that?” he continued, voice breaking. “He made… I saw…” Tears spilled from his eyes. Dorian stared at him, expression soft and pained. Cassiel looked away. “Don’t look at me…”

“Amatus…” Dorian held him gently, wrapping him in his arms. Cassiel ground his teeth together, trying not to cry. Not here, not in the open. “Amatus, I’m…”

“No. Don’t be sorry.” Cassiel felt his chest burning with guilt. “I just… wanted you to be able to rest, all right? You’ve been taking care of me for weeks now. You haven’t been sleeping well, waking up with me all the time. You’re tired, and worn out, and I just wanted that you could… take a break from me. From everything I bring to the table. And then I fuck up like this…” His voice broke again. Dorian hugged him tightly. 

“I don’t need a break from you, amatus.” His gentle voice made his heart hurt. “Andraste, I don’t even know how to say this. Cassiel, I’m hardly as worn out as you seem to think I am.” He stroked a hand down his back. “And regardless… You’re the man I love. I’m here for you, the good and the bad and the difficult. If you can handle all of this, the loss of sleep, the memories, and the inquisition, I can certainly handle some rough awakenings.”

“I’m still a stupid fucking moron,” Cassiel said numbly, surrendering to the mage’s hold. Dorian chuckled, seating himself and gently easing the inquisitor across his lap. 

“Well, nobody is perfect, really.” Cassiel couldn’t help but snort at his tone, smiling a little. Dorian kissed his forehead. “Cassiel,” he said softly. The elf looked to him. “I am sorry. For what I said. I am… always afraid to lose you. It took me so long to find you, and the idea of you slipping from my grasp…” Dorian sighed roughly. “I suppose I really need to find better ways to express that fear.”

Cassiel smirked brokenly, one hand clutching at his shirt. “I guess we both need to be better at this,” he said. He nuzzled against the mage’s chin, purring softly. “I love you, vhenan,” he whispered. Dorian squeezed him tightly. 

“I love you, amatus.”

*****

Platel paced restlessly on the edge of their camp. He could feel Dia’s eyes on him, but ignored her. His thoughts were racing. So much had happened in just the last few hours, and now that he finally had time to process it, he found it to be nearly impossible. 

He jolted when he heard shouting from Cassiel’s tent. It was angled away from them, so from here he couldn’t see inside it. He started toward it, but Dia quickly grabbed his arm, stopping him. 

“Don’t. He’s not in pain. That was anger.” 

Platel looked at her for a moment, then back to the tent. It had fallen silent just as suddenly as it started. A longing filled his heart. A weak hope for even a moment that he was angry with the tevinter, that somehow… He dropped his head, sighing. 

“I couldn’t help him, in the end,” Platel said, sitting down heavily against a tree trunk. The rain coming down felt soothing on his bruised body. “I’d wanted to go. To help him. To maybe have a chance… to show him I was still here. Still…” He shook his head. “And then here we are, and every moment I had to protect him, I froze. I was terrified! How was I supposed to fight demons?”

“Nobody expected you to, Platel,” Dia said softly. 

“Nobody expected you to either,” Platel pointed out. “And when the time came, you leapt right in. I could never be that brave. Can’t fight demons, break barriers… fire lightning from my hands.”

Dia chuckled. “You know Platel, I think Cassiel sees more to Dorian than that.” Platel grit his teeth, turning away. She continued. “I know you’re really dedicated to hating him, but have you ever considered just… watching them together? Even in the ruins you could see how close they are.” Dia looked toward their tent. “Maybe if you saw how happy Cassiel was, you could accept it better.”

“I’m not going to accept his love for a tevinter, of all things,” Platel said with a sneer. “Slavers and blood magic users…”

Dia sighed impatiently. “Look, I’m pretty sure Cassiel wouldn’t partner a slaver or blood mage. Just admit you’re pissed off that it isn’t you.”

Platel grit his teeth, drawing away from the sharp jab at his heart. “Fine, I am,” Platel said shortly. “And so what? I could’ve been what he is. I loved and supported Cassiel too. I - ”

“But that’s over now, isn’t it?” Dia pushed off from the tree she was leaning against. “If you’re not going to accept it, or even try to accept it, then it’s time to cut them out of your mind entirely. It shouldn’t be too hard, when Cassiel isn’t living with us anymore. Focus on your husband and daughter. Rebuild that relationship. Or at least be as kind as Cassiel was and end it.”

“That was kind?” Platel spat bitterly. Dia shrugged. 

“At least he was honest. He had nothing left to give you. If you have nothing left for your family either, then at least give them the kindness of honesty.”

Platel said nothing. Dia walked away, back toward the camp. Platel watched her go, seeing the qunari turn as she approached and waving. He looked to his hands, idly rubbing the wedding ring on his finger. It wasn’t the one he had originally worn when he proposed to Cassiel. This one was from his husband, Alenar. A sweet man, stern but soft underneath. He had been a breath of fresh air while Platel was grieving, picking him back up and supporting his heartbreak. It had been like waking from a nightmare. And then they had their daughter, and Platel was ecstatic. Viella. This would be her third year. He couldn’t have been a prouder father. 

And then Cassiel left their clan. Platel remembered the pang in his heart. He hadn’t thought of him much in the years since he married. It hadn’t been on purpose; Cassiel had been so silent and distant to the entire clan for so long, doing his duty and simply going through the motions of living. And then he left so suddenly. Platel had waved goodbye with everyone else, hoping for his safe return. 

Then the news. The breach in the sky. The explosion at the enclave. His heart in his throat as the clan waited for word, to hear if Cassiel was still alive. He remembered sobbing some nights, Alenar hugging him gently, whispering soft assurances. He couldn’t be dead. Couldn’t be. And he wasn’t. The runners coming home with news of Cassiel had brightened the entire clan, even with the strange circumstances surrounding his survival. 

And every time the runners came home, it was more amazing news. That he was the central point to a growing organization, the inquisition. His long journeys to faraway lands. Fighting battles and awesome creatures. Closing the breach, the destruction of Haven and his renewal at Skyhold. And then his family went to visit him, and the news they brought on coming back. How happy he was, the new, powerful, charismatic leader he had become. 

And his new lover. The sweet, charming mage from tevinter. 

The bitterness in his heart on hearing that. He remembered looking around, seeing the happy faces that Cassiel had emerged from the shell he had trapped himself in for seven long years. That he could even love again after such a shattering loss. Nobody seemed to even care that it was a tevinter. Everyone was so happy, and he…

He couldn’t be. He had waited so long for Cassiel to come back, and when he did, he did not come to Platel. He moved on. True, Platel had moved on as well, but he was polygamous. Cassiel could have still come back to him. He hadn’t seemed to have spared a thought, sent a letter or a word or… anything. And when Platel showed his face the elf had sent him away. He had needed comfort but found it from another man. 

Platel remembered the moment in the ruins when the barrier had cut him off from the rest of the group. Cassiel’s expression of panic, fear and anger, slamming his fists into the barrier vainly, screaming his name. He remembered the demon facing the two of them down, telling Platel all the secret thoughts Cassiel had of him. Disgust. Hatred. Revulsion. And finally, he remembered the memory the demon had shoved into his head. 

Most of it had faded by now, but moments of it still stuck out. Knives, and blood, and rough hands. A malicious grin and whispered words. Cassiel said it was fake, without even hearing any of the details. Platel didn’t believe that. He didn’t know why he had been given the memory to begin with, except maybe to distract him. He sighed. He supposed that had worked fairly well, then. 

_“... Why couldn’t I be the one he wanted?”_ The thought came to him wearily. His eyes burned. _“What did Breele and Dorian have that I didn’t?”_

He couldn’t convince himself to cut Cassiel out of his life, however. Platel closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the tree. Maybe they could still be friendly. Maybe Dia was right, and if he just… was around them, could see how happy Cassiel was… It panged at his heart, but wouldn’t it be better to be friends than wrestle jealousy for the rest of his life?

Platel pushed himself to his feet, walking back into camp.


	12. Release

Dorian didn’t see much of Cassiel for a few days after they reached Skyhold again. Despite their efforts to keep everything quiet and secret, the inquisitor’s lengthy absence followed by his rough appearance upon his return had people in a bit of an uproar. After submitting himself to the healers for a few hours, Cassiel had immediately set himself to his duties. Mainly, easing nobles and assuaging the fears of the public. 

Dorian gave him his space. He still felt guilty for his outburst on the inquisitor. To have blamed him out of anger… That hadn’t been fair of him. Cassiel’s broken expression still painted itself cleanly in his mind.

Dorian tutted to himself angrily in the library, slamming a book back in its shelf. He was a fool. Always a fool. First he had allowed himself to stay behind, then he had snapped on his flagging partner. Sometimes he had no idea what the inquisitor even saw in him. He really had no idea how to do this relationship business. 

He flicked through a few more books, then sighed impatiently, turning away. He jerked in surprise to see the fellow standing right behind him. Cassiel smiled, looking exhausted but pleased to see him. 

“Vhenan…” he said softly, running a gentle hand down his arm. Dorian stepped in closer, leaning his forehead against his. “You don’t have to avoid my room, you know,” he said in amusement. “My bed is yours, vhenan.”

Dorian smiled, chuckling. “I would be more than happy to crowd your room with you, amatus.” He kissed his head softly. “My broom closet feels all the smaller now that you’ve spoiled me.”

Cassiel chuckled, taking his chin in hand and kissing his lips softly. Dorian leaned into him, eyes sliding shut. Taking a few moments to enjoy his taste and scent. Dorian took him in his arms, pulling him closer, feeling his chest press to his. A hand clutched to the mage’s shirt, the elf making a soft croon into him. He could barely stand to pull away, giving them only the barest inches of space. 

He looked over the elf’s handsome face. The healers had done a good job with him, but seeing the deepened scars on his face still hurt his heart. He wondered how the rest of his wounds had healed, if he was still in pain. If he was having nightmares again. 

Cassiel tapped his chin, clicking his tongue. “Hey,” he whispered. Dorian jolted, realising he had been staring at him silently for several seconds. Cassiel smiled gently. “Where did you go, darling?”

Dorian cupped his face in both hands, letting out a slow sigh. “Nowhere in particular,” he said after another moment. He had much more he wanted to say, but he was gradually becoming aware of the eyes on them. Impossible to have privacy when one was an evil tevinter mage bedding the inquisitor. Cassiel’s eyes flicked to the side for a split second, and he nodded.

“Come to my room tonight,” he said quietly. He ran a hand over his cheek, conflict hardening his features for a moment before saying, “I need you.”

“I need you,” he admitted in a low voice. They kissed once more, a long sweet touch of the lips, hands enwrapped in each other. And then Cassiel pulled away, letting their fingers slip from each other as he walked away. Dorian watched him go, descending down the stairs out of sight. Ignoring all the other eyes watching the two of them. Dorian sighed, sitting down heavily in his chair. 

*****

Cassiel made his long painful way up to his room. It was late in the evening now, having spent all day in meetings and talks with nobles and his advisors. Having to smile in everyone’s faces while his body screamed for rest was the real challenge of this job. He smirked, wondering if perhaps the envy demon might have been a preferable foe. 

At least Josephine had made certain that each meeting had a cushioned chair for him. She was a wonderful woman. Whatever she was being paid was certainly not enough. 

He felt relieved when he saw the light on in his room. Dorian was here then. He tried to speed himself up, though his leg didn’t really cooperate with him. He worried deeply it wouldn’t heal properly. The doctors assured him it would, but that didn’t really dispel the fear in him. He could work around a wonky shoulderblade. A disabled leg… would be much more difficult. 

He entered his room, leaning on the stairway to give his injury a rest. Dorian was seated behind his desk with a book, tossing it aside immediately when he saw the inquisitor. Cassiel smiled widely, meeting him in the center of the room and letting himself be scooped into the man’s arms. Dorian hugged him tightly, Cassiel wincing a bit when he squeezed his wounds but holding to him just as tightly. 

Dorian pulled back with a kiss to his cheek, hands still rested on the elf’s arms. “Amatus,” he said fondly. His eyes had that charming twinkle to them. “I should have known you’d be late.”

“Fashionably late, of course.” Cassiel gingerly removed his jacket, Dorian helping to slide off his shoulders when he struggled. “Thank you. I’m stiff everywhere.” He tossed the jacket aside, letting it land wherever it did, leaning into Dorian again. The mage stroked down his back, fingers pressing here and there. Cassiel let out a slow breath, listening to his heart beat. Soothing, familiar. He looked up to Dorian, smiling when their eyes met. “I’m glad you’re here, vhenan,” he said. Dorian rested a hand on his cheek. 

“As am I, amatus.” He stroked his hands down his shoulders, over his arms and back up his spine. “How are you feeling?” he asked. “Are you in pain? How is your back?”

Cassiel chuckled. So like him to worry. “I’m all ri…” He let the sentence drop. He looked back up to Dorian, the mage watching him curiously. “I’m… in pain,” he started again. “A lot of pain. Can you use your magic?”

Dorian grinned, pinching his chin and kissing him softly. “Of course,” he said. His fingers touched to the buttons on his shirt. Cassiel felt his heart jump, taking his hands in his own. Dorian looked to him, and Cassiel could see the soft sympathy in his gaze. He dropped his hands, letting the mage undo his shirt, gently sliding it off his shoulders. 

Dorian couldn’t hide the momentary flicker in his eyes when he saw the raw, barely healed wounds covering his chest. Cassiel touched a hand to his cheek, wanting to assure him, but the words wouldn’t come. Dorian gently ran his fingers over his skin, white magic swirling around his hands. Cassiel shivered, feeling a chill, then relief. The pain was gone. 

“I may not be much of a healer, but at least I can ease the suffering,” he said quietly. He knelt down before the elf, his fingers tracing the new scars. Cassiel shivered, gasping as Dorian touched his lips to one. Dorian wrapped his arms around the elf, holding him close, lips gracing each new mark. Cassiel quivered, his skin sensitive, clutching the man’s shoulders tightly. 

“D-Dorian…”

“Do you need me to stop, amatus?” His breath was warm on his skin. Cassiel shook his head fiercely. Dorian stood, kissing a line along his collarbone, up his neck. Cassiel clutched to him, shaking with emotion and sensitivity. When their lips met he fell into him, taking his tongue in his mouth. He clutched to the man’s shirt, tugging vainly at one of the numerous straps holding it together. Dorian chuckled into him, hands undoing his shirt expertly, pulling back for a moment to bring it over his head. 

They immediately clung to each other again, Cassiel desperate to feel bare skin against bare skin, to feel their warmth and heartbeats together. Alive, both of them alive and together. Dorian took his lips fiercely, one hand enwrapped around the back of his neck, the other clutching to his arm to pull him closer. Cassiel let himself be taken, be pulled in, moaning into the mage. 

Cassiel was breathless when he pulled away, leaning into the man’s neck. Dorian guided him backwards to the bed, easing him down on his back. Cassiel slid his way up the bed, letting Dorian climb over him. The mage stroked over his face, a hand brushing over the scar across his eye before his lips gently sealed to it. Cassiel took in a breath, wincing, but not from pain. A thumb stroked over his lips, Dorian touching a kiss to the scarring there as well. There was a love and reverence to his every touch that threatened to overwhelm him. To feel so bare and open to someone. Accepted.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked softly. Cassiel opened his eyes, feeling the tears burning in them. 

“I always hid myself from you. Even when you were honest with me. Even when you opened yourself to me. I always hid.”

“Amatus…”

“No, listen. If I had been open to begin with… If I hadn’t hid how I feeling, what had happened to me, I wouldn’t have been so exhausted. So distracted. I had seven years to face it all and I shut it out.”

Dorian pulled him close, stroking down his cheek. His eyes were so soft, so beautiful. Full of love and care and genuine emotion. “You didn’t deserve this,” he whispered. “Not the demon. Not the memories. Not the bandits. Not what happened to Breele. You survived as best you could.”

Cassiel let out a broken breath. “How do you forgive all this?”

Dorian smiled, a warm smile. “Because there’s nothing to forgive.” He kissed his cheek, stroking over his chest. “Tell me what you want me to do,” he whispered in his ear. Cassiel purred. 

“I want you to show me how much you love me.”

Dorian grinned wickedly, nibbling at his earlobe. “Easily done, amatus,” he murmured. He brought the elf’s lips to his once more, soft slow kisses, letting his hands roam over his chest. Cassiel crooned under his touch, fingers dancing over his sides, down his back. He was so handsome, his skin so smooth and soft. Dorian kissed over his jawline, then down his neck, touching his teeth to his collarbone. Cassiel let out a shuddering breath as he made his way back down his chest, touching his lips to his belly as his hands reached his belt buckle. 

Cassiel sat up on his elbows, watching Dorian undo his pants and pull them off. The mage pressed soft kisses up his cock, tongue sliding over the tip. Cassiel let out a heated breath, groaning as the mage placed a final touch of his lips to it before taking him in his mouth. He leaned his head back as the mage took him deeply, one hand gently squeezing and stroking his balls. The other hooked under his leg, stroking his thigh, Cassiel sucking in a breath as he rubbed over his deep wound. A slight chill touched his skin, then relief from the pain. He moaned, clutching the blankets tightly. 

Dorian pulled off, kissing to his belly just above his dick. His hand moved from his balls to his cock, pumping him vigorously. Cassiel panted, fingers enwrapped in the sheets. Dorian slid up next to him, still stroking him over, nibbling his neck. 

“Cum for me, amatus,” he whispered in his ear. The elf groaned, still trying to hold back. Dorian grinned, lips sealing to his neck and leaving a sweet bruise. Cassiel gasped, then moaned loudly as he finally came, spilling out over the mage’s hand. Dorian kissed over his neck gently, tongue touching to the mark he had left. 

“Dorian…” The elf pulled the mage over him, lips meeting again. He clutched to the man’s face, tongue sliding his mouth, wanting to taste him, wanting the entirety of what Dorian had to give him. Dorian wrapped his arms around his back, pressing their bodies together, rolling his hips against the elf’s. Cassiel tugged at the hem of his pants, groaning into his mouth. 

“Take these off,” he said breathlessly, moaning as Dorian nibbled the scarring on his lips. He chuckled deep in his chest, sitting up and unbuckling his pants quickly. Cassiel watched openly as he revealed himself, hard and slick with pre. He kicked his clothing off the bed, pressing flush to the elf once more, slotting their hips together. Cassiel moaned, feeling their cocks press together, then cried out as the mage thrust against him hard. Dorian wrapped his arms around him, thrusting again, Cassiel arching his hips into him. 

He didn’t hold back his needy moans and cries as Dorian thrust against him, quickly building a rapid pace. His heart was pounding, their breathing fast and hard. Dorian’s teeth found his shoulder, marking him, and he cried out in ecstasy. His body was buzzing with sensitivity. Feeling his lover pound against him like this was almost more than he could bear.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dorian said hoarsely, nipping at his neck. Cassiel couldn’t even answer, caught up in need and desire. Dorian kissed over his jawline, teeth touching to his lips. “Maker, what would I do without you…”

“Don’t think about that,” Cassiel breathed, legs wrapped around the mage, fingernails digging into his skin. Gods, he was hard and ready to go again but the thrusting felt so good he didn’t want to stop. “I love you so fucking much, vhenan.”

“I love you, amatus.” Dorian latched his lips to his neck, leaving another pretty bruise. Cassiel groaned, back arching. 

“Okay, slow down,” he gasped finally, overcome. Dorian stopped, looking up at him, breathless. Cassiel laughed shakily, relaxing the grip he had on the mage’s shoulders. “Sorry, nothing’s wrong… Just a little overwhelmed.” 

Dorian smiled to him warmly, settling down beside the elf, one arm still wrapped around his back. He stroked down his chest, softly kissing the bruises and marks he left on the inquisitor’s neck and jaw. Cassiel crooned, eyes sliding shut. The gentle touches felt soothing, loving. Dorian chuckled, tickling over his neck. 

“Want me to heal these for you, amatus?” he teased. Cassiel snickered. 

“Of course not. I love showing off my hickies to the nobility.” He sought out the mage’s lips, Dorian pulling him into another embrace as they kissed. 

He let himself be lost for a moment, Dorian’s gentle hands roaming his body, his lips and tongue, his warmth and heartbeat. To be here with the man he loved, after everything he had been through… 

To no longer be alone. 

Cassiel kissed his cheek, nuzzling along his jaw. “Do you want to have sex?” he breathed in his ear. Dorian chuckled. 

“Was there a doubt?”

Cassiel grinned, laying back on the bed. “Glad to hear it,” he teased. He nodded to the night dresser, letting Dorian climb over him to get their bottle of oil from it. He purred as the tevinter settled between his legs, his body singing with sensitivity from Dorian’s touch and attentions. He smirked to the mage as he popped open the bottle. 

“I wonder if people know how gentle my evil magister is behind closed doors,” he said in amusement, bending his knees and hitching his hips. Dorian looked at him in mock offense as he poured oil into his hand. 

“Gentle? You wound me.” He took the elf by the waist, pulling him over his lap. He pushed his legs up, knees bent, rubbing a hand between them. “Tevinters are _passionate_ , not gentle,” he said in a wicked whisper, sliding a finger inside him. Cassiel bit his lip, letting his head fall back, eyes squeezing shut. He stroked over the elf’s slim chest, fingers tracing his scarring. Cassiel let out a soft breath at the gentle heat emanating from his hand. His skin felt so sensitive, every touch like fire. He moaned when the mage pressed another finger inside him, thrusting into him. 

Dorian touched a kiss to his knee, leaning over him, fingers pressed deep inside him. Cassiel opened his eyes, taking the mage’s lips eagerly, moaning and gasping into his mouth. The mage did not slow his attentions, his hand finding the elf’s cock and squeezing it. Cassiel wrapped an arm around his neck, holding him close, barely able to kiss but not wanting any distance between them. Dorian was panting into him, kissing his cheek when the elf lost himself to his moans and cries. 

“I-I’m gonna finish before you’ve even started,” Cassiel stuttered, chuckling. Dorian laughed deep in his chest, giving him a last kiss on the cheek before pulling back. 

“You make it so difficult by sounding so adorable.” He stroked over his hips, patting him on the leg before reaching for the bottle of oil again. He poured more into his hand, slickening up his cock thoroughly. Cassiel watched, ears perked. Dorian caught him looking and smirked. “Enjoying the view, are you?”

“You have no idea.”

Dorian raised a brow, running a hand up the elf’s thigh. “I’m not so sure about that. I have a fairly nice view from this end as well.” He wrapped his arms around the elf, lifting him over his lap. Cassiel winced as his weight fell on his injured leg awkwardly. 

“Not sure I can do this position right now,” he said, gritting his teeth. Dorian tutted, kissing him gently as he laid him back down. His hand stroked over the wound, once again sweeping the discomfort away with his magic. Cassiel took in a long breath, looking up at the mage as he settled over the elf. Dorian smiled to him, hand on his cheek. 

“How are you feeling?” he whispered. Cassiel grinned, nuzzling against his chin. 

“Kind of like I really want a handsome mage from tevinter to fuck me.”

“How fortunate. I know one of those.” Dorian kissed his lips, just once, chuckling into him. “And he would also like to fuck a handsome elf.”

He felt Dorian’s cock press against him, and he took a deep breath, relaxing his body as Dorian pushed in a few inches. Cassiel moaned, letting out a breath as Dorian kissed over his neck. He gently slid in and out, letting the elf get accustomed to his presence before pushing in further. Cassiel wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding him close, panting as the tevinter rolled his hips against him. 

Memories began to flicker in his mind, and he pushed them away, focusing on Dorian as the mage sought his lips. They kissed with a rough passion, Dorian nipping at the scarring on his mouth, Cassiel gasping with sensitivity but refusing to pull away. He thrust into the elf harder, Cassiel wrapping his legs around his, arching his hips into each thrust. He whispered in Dorian’s ear and the mage pounded him fiercely, making him cry out. 

They lost themselves to pure primal need and desire, doing what their bodies demanded of them, what their strained emotions craved. Cassiel gripped to the mage tightly, nails digging into his skin, gasping and moaning and not bothering to hold himself back. Dorian clutched the elf’s body to his as he thrust, panting, sweat mingling together. They could hardly kiss anymore, breathing rapid, just thrusting into each other desperately. Cassiel wound a hand through the mage’s hair, crying out in elven, ready to burst but holding back. He didn’t want this to stop, even if the feelings were overwhelming. He needed this. He needed Dorian. 

“I love you,” he managed to breathe as the tevinter pounded into him. He moaned loudly, arching his back. “Don’t let me lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” Dorian panted, sealing a kiss to his neck. He whispered in rapid tevene, nipping his skin. “I love you.”

Dorian’s hand found his cock, squeezing him as he stroked the elf. Cassiel couldn’t hold back anymore, crying out as he came, covering his chest. Dorian didn’t stop, pumping him as he thrust ever harder into the elf. Cassiel made a long moan as he felt the mage fill him, still thrusting against him. 

He finally slowed, the two panting, Cassiel letting his body flop back on the mattress. He let out a soft sound as Dorian pulled out, laying down beside him and scooping the elf into his arms. Cassiel purred, leaning into his chest. Both of them were covered in sweat, breathless, bodies warm and hearts pounding. 

For several minutes they simply lay there together, silent and blissful, enjoying the closeness, the peace and quiet of the night. After everything he had been through, the fade, the nightmare demon, the envy demon in the ruins… It was so strange to feel calm. To feel safe. 

“Do you think they heard us?” Dorian said in a stage whisper. Cassiel burst out laughing. 

“Gods, maybe. We got very loud.” He kissed Dorian’s chin, grinning. “Perhaps it will help convince our allies I’m in perfect health.”

Dorian pinched his ear lightly, stroking over his head. “You are going to be a sight tomorrow,” he said in amusement, fingers dancing over his neck. “All these marks on your skin. No wonder the nobility think I’m harvesting you for blood magic.”

Cassiel crooned under his touch. He smirked wickedly, glancing to the tevinter. “You know, I heard the most interesting rumour today,” he said. Dorian raised a brow, grinning. “I heard my tevinter paramour was seen _running off with a qunari savage_. For illicit purposes!” Dorian groaned, rolling his eyes. Cassiel laughed. “Are you hiding someone from me, vhenan?”

“Yes, of course,” Dorian said smartly. “Before we all hopped off to the ruins, I thought Iron Bull and I could have a little quickie first. Just something to get the blood running. You understand, don’t you?”

Cassiel couldn’t stop snickering at the mage’s annoyed expression. He ran a hand down his chest, shoulders still shaking with mirth. “I mean, if you want to…”

“No, I believe I’m quite all right with what I have right now, darling.” He stroked down the elf’s back, eliciting another croon. Cassiel looked at him fondly, studying his face for a few moments. 

For all they had been through, for all the difficulties and struggles, for everything Dorian had to face with him… and he was still here. Cassiel felt his smile slip slightly, looking into his handsome eyes. Dorian stroked over his cheek, resting it on his neck. 

“Something wrong, amatus?” he asked, quiet concern in his voice. 

“No, I…” Cassiel bit his lip, trying to find the words. He rested his hand over the tevinter’s. “Vhenan, I want you to come to my room every night,” he said softly. “Every night. No matter if I ask, or if I’m in a strange mood. I…” He took a deep breath, meeting the mage’s eyes. “I want this to be home for you.”

Dorian looked at him, lips still curved slightly in a smile, but his eyes were bright. Emotional. “I… I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting that,” he said after a moment. His gaze flickered away, Cassiel taking his chin to pull it back. He let out a breath of laughter. “I… I would like that.” He cleared his throat, nodding. “I would like that very much.”

Cassiel leaned in, kissing him softly. “Stay with me,” he whispered. Dorian let out a shuddering breath. 

“Always, amatus.”


	13. Hatred

“This is big of you, you know,” Dia said. Platel made a small huff, leaning on his hand. 

“Don’t make a thing out of it.”

“I’m not. I’m just acknowledging it’s brave of you to try and put this behind you.”

Platel nodded, eyes scanning over the tavern. It wasn’t very busy right now, a scattering of people coming around for a late meal or early drink, leaving the two elves with some space and privacy in their corner. It would get busier as the evening progressed. Most of the patrons were humans, with a scattering of what Platel was fairly sure were city elves by their odd or absent vallaslin. He saw a couple dwarves as well, besides the bartender, and he had to admit they interested him. Dwarves didn’t have a long history of murdering his people, after all. 

Platel nudged the glass in front him, making a face at the alcohol within. ‘Ale’. He had no idea what it was other than that it tasted awful. He watched Dia sip at hers, idly gazing over the small crowd. 

“How can you drink that?” he said in a low voice. Dia chuckled. 

“Oh it isn’t that bad, Platel. And it certainly won’t be better warm, so drink up.” She pushed his cup back to him, taking another drink. Platel grimaced, lifting the glass. 

“Hello!” Platel glanced up as Cassiel reached their table, waving and seating himself. Dorian was with him, the mage wearing another one of his gaudy outfits. Platel tried his best not to sneer. He saw Cassiel wince as he adjusted his leg, and wondered if he was still in pain. “Glad to see you two showed up,” he said with a grin. “I was a little worried I’d miss you before you had to go back.”

“We have all the free time in the world, Cassiel. It’s you keeping us waiting,” Dia teased. Cassiel chuckled, leaning in the table. 

“I suppose it is my fault,” he said gravely. His ears perked when the bartender approached their table, clanking down a bottle of wine and two glasses. Cassiel thanked the dwarf as he walked away, Dorian taking the bottle in hand. 

“By the Maker, is this the best we can do?” he said after the dwarf was out of earshot. “Why didn’t he just bring us a mug of old grapes in vinegar?”

“If you’re going to be a spoiled brat about it, that just means it’s all for me.” Cassiel snatched the bottle out of his hand, popping it open. Dorian made a heavy sigh. 

“Well _if you insist_ I will help you rid Skyhold of all the awful wine it contains. Only because I don’t want you to shoulder the burden alone.”

Cassiel laughed as he filled both their cups. Platel looked away. Dia took the bottle herself as the two toasted each other mockingly. “This isn’t any label I recognise,” she said, looking it over. “Though my knowledge of human wines is lacking, I suppose.”

“It’s a perfectly respectable vintage,” Cassiel said politely. Dorian scoffed. 

“‘Respectable’. My dear, do not torture yourself,” he said, touching her hand gently. “Cassiel is being diplomatic here, but in private, he curses human wine like they pissed in it.”

Platel couldn’t help watching Cassiel’s face as the elf laughed again. His expression was so bright and cheerful, eyes lighting as they met the mage’s. Their hands touched, entwining a single finger. Platel looked back to his mug, feeling even less like drinking it. 

“I haven’t really had time to ask about the clan since you arrived,” Cassiel said, his glass already half drained. His gaze took in both Platel and Dia. “How have things been? Are we ready to migrate?”

“This year has been really calm for us, thankfully,” Dia said. She had nearly finished her mug of ale, and was eyeing the bottle of wine. “No demon activity where we are. No rifts opening, either. We’ll be moving north in a few weeks.”

“I’m glad our clan was out of range of everything,” Cassiel said softly, eyes distant for a moment. He blinked, looking back to Dia. “And our family?”

“Same as always. Tinx’ husband might be coming to live with us, actually.” Dia smirked, finishing her mug and pulling the bottle closer. Dorian tutted, shaking his head. 

“You’re really going to torture yourself, are you?”

“If Cassiel can handle it, so can I.” She poured herself half a glass before continuing her story. “Anyway, Hargrin has been sending Tinx a hell of a lot of letters recently. She’s been getting excited. Guiltily excited. I think there’s some kind of issue with his family or their business.” She sipped the wine, making a bit of a face. Dorian chuckled. “So that might be interesting. A dwarf in a dalish clan.”

“Your sister married a dwarf?” Dorian said in surprise, looking to Cassiel. He was pouring himself another glass of wine. 

“Did I never mention that?” He swilled the glass, thinking to himself. “I guess I didn’t. But yes, they’ve been together for years now. Hargrin’s family got run off into the woods by bandits and became extremely lost. We found them on our migration and our keeper allowed them to travel with us. They had children with them, so that helped the decision.” He scratched at his neck absentmindedly. Platel’s eyes flickered when he saw the telltale marks on his skin. 

“So your family has a habit of partnering outside the species, then?” Dorian said in amusement. Cassiel smirked, leaning into him. 

“I suppose we do.” 

Platel looked away when they kissed, a small, simple thing. This was much harder than he had thought it would be. No, that wasn’t true. It was, in fact, exactly as hard as he had thought it would be. Seeing Cassiel so happy and comfortable… 

“Platel! I’m sorry, me and Dia have talking right over you.” Cassiel tapped him on the arm. “How is your family? Viella is in her third year, isn’t she?”

Platel was actually shocked Cassiel knew her name, considering he had never once spoken to her or even looked at her. He cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, she is. She’s doing well. Her and Alenar.” He sipped at his mug distractedly, grimacing at the flavour. Dia was right, it was certainly no better warm. Cassiel snickered at his expression. 

“You might enjoy the wine better,” he said in amusement. “I could get another glass for you.”

“No, it’s all right. I’m not sure I want any sh… human alcohols.” He cleared his throat again, pushing the glass back. He tried to think of more to say, hoping not to make his discomfort obvious. 

“Mom and Ilya have been going on trips lately, away from the clan,” Dia picked up when the silence stretched out. “Mom’s trying to teach her more of spiritual magic. I think she’s worried about leaving us without a powerful mage.”

“Is mom going somewhere?” Cassiel asked, brow furrowing. Dia chuckled, shaking her head. 

“No, Cassie, but she’s not exactly getting younger. And if another mage is born, we’re going to have to start sending some away.” Cassiel’s eyes flickered away. Dia patted his hand comfortingly. “Hey, don’t get all broody. Passing from old age is a gift, dalen.”

Cassiel scoffed, grinning. “Don’t call me that in public,” he chided her. Dorian raised a brow, squeezing his hand. 

“And what does it mean?”

“It means mind your own business, elven is _secret_ ,” Cassiel said in a loud whisper, draining the rest of his glass. He was barely affected by the alcohol. Platel wondered if he still drank as much as he used to. Cassiel picked up the bottle, brow furrowing as he shook it. “For gods’ sake, Dorian, you make such a scene about how much you hate it and then you drink all of it.” He poured the last bit out into a glass, shaking his head. 

“That wasn’t me alone, blame your sister.” Dorian rubbed the elf’s arm, smiling. He had a disgustingly charming smile. Platel hated thinking to himself that the man was rather handsome, for a human. “So magic runs in your family, does it?”

“Yes, though only Ilya gained the gift of magic.” Cassiel grinned. “Imagine if I had turned out to be a mage… What would you think of that, vhenan?” Platel nearly choked when he heard the word. He covered it up with a cough, clearing his throat. Cassiel glanced to him in concern. Dorian didn’t seem to have noticed, continuing on. 

“If you were a mage? I’m not sure. It would be hard to talk to a man through the gilded bars of a mage circle,” he said, chuckling. Cassiel snorted, turning back to him. 

“I’m dalish, I wouldn’t _be_ in a circle. Unless they dragged me there, I suppose.” He finished off his glass, pushing it away. He drummed his fingers on the table, eyes distant. After several seconds he looked to Dia. “How are… B-Breele’s parents?” he asked softly. Platel looked to him in surprise. 

“They’re doing well,” Dia said. She reached out to touch his arm. “They visited him for you this year. They send their love with the rest of the clan.”

Cassiel nodded, looking away. Dorian put an arm around him, gently squeezing his hand. Platel tried his damndest not to be bitter. Not to be angry. Cassiel deserved to be comforted, Platel should have been happy he could bring up Breele at all. But he wasn’t. He just looked at the two, looked at the mage holding him so close and felt angry. He could have done this too. _“Why him and not me?”_

Cassiel cleared his throat, standing. “I’m gonna get us more wine,” he said, putting on a smile. Dorian patted him on the arm, chuckling. 

“Get us something decent this time, would you?” he asked, batting his eyelashes at the elf. Cassiel smirked, pinching his cheek. 

“No, I’m going to get you those grapes in vinegar you asked for.” He turned, making his way across the tavern to the bartender. Dorian looked back to Platel and Dia. 

“I swear, the wine choices here are pure punishment. I would kill for a decent glass.”

“Gods, who gives a shit…” Platel muttered. Dorian glanced to him, but paid his comment no mind. Platel bit his lip, feeling Dia’s eyes on him but not daring to meet her gaze. He cleared his throat, putting on a fake smile. “I mean, at least it isn’t… this,” he said, nudging his nearly full mug of ale. 

“Of course not. I wouldn’t drink anything they have on tap here.” Dorian made a face, chuckling. “At least I managed to get some decent brandy on my last trip to Orlais. Unless Cassiel has helped himself to the stash I left in his room.”

Platel fought to keep the fake smile on his face. ‘Left in his room’. “I… don’t think I’ve had brandy,” he said, trying to sound polite. He glanced up when Cassiel came back, putting down another bottle and a new glass. He slid the glass to Platel, popping open the bottle. 

“No, you aren’t looking at it,” Cassiel chided the mage when he reached for it. “You’re going to complain. Drink what you’re given.” He poured everyone a glass, Dorian sneering at him, but the two broke into laughter when their eyes met. It was insufferable. Platel took his cup, fingers clutching to it tightly. 

“Did you drink all of my brandy?” Dorian asked, sniffing at the glass. Cassiel grinned, looking away innocently. Dorian narrowed his eyes, pinching his pointed ear. “You are a terrible man and I hate you.”

“I didn’t drink your brandy!” Cassiel protested, slapping his hand away, still smiling. “Not all of it, anyway. As if I need more of your complaints.”

Platel looked into his glass silently, their lighthearted bickering fading into the background. Dia was right. They were so happy together. So comfortable. Cassiel’s expression, his voice, his laughter… It was though they had travelled back in time, that he could have been sitting at this table with Breele instead. Platel felt his fingers tighten around his glass. 

He felt Dia’s hand on his arm, and tried to forced himself to relax. He looked up to Cassiel and Dorian, the two still chatting about something or another. Neither of them had even noticed his silence, his frustration. Cassiel rested a hand over the mage’s, and their fingers automatically enwrapped around each other. 

Platel slammed the glass down on the table, spilling wine everywhere. The two looked at him in surprise. He heard Dia say something, but ignored her, pushing himself to his feet. Without another word he stormed away, pushing past people heedlessly. He practically threw the tavern door open, marching out into the rain. 

*****

Cassiel stared hard at Platel’s back as the man walked away, ignoring the people he shoved aside. His jaw clenched, seeing the door slam open and shut again, ears tipping back. He made an angry huff, trying not to bare his teeth in frustration. Dorian let out a long breath. 

“Well, that went… better than I expected,” he said quietly. Cassiel felt him rubbing his hand gently. 

“I guess he tried,” Dia muttered in annoyance. She looked up when Cassiel stood. “What are you doing?”

“Stay here,” he said stiffly. He stalked toward the door without another word, paying much more mind to where he was going than Platel had. His blood was running hot, anger and frustration boiling together. He wasn’t going to let Platel storm out just so he could deal with this shit again later. 

He cursed when he walked out the door, the rain soaking him through immediately. He glared up at the sky, then looked around quickly. He barely spotted Platel’s form in the rain, retreating toward the courtyard. He ran after him, expression twisting into a snarl. So tired. So fed up with all of this. 

“Platel!” he shouted as he got near. He saw the elf stop, but didn’t turn to face him. He slowed to a halt a few feet away, hands clenching into fists. “Is this your idea of putting it all behind us?” Cassiel snapped. “You didn’t even try! You just sat there glowering the whole damn time!”

“I wouldn’t have bothered coming if I knew you were going to flaunt it all in front of me!” Platel retorted, spinning on him. Cassiel stared at him, feeling his heart pounding. 

“Flaunt? Flaunt what?” 

“Flaunt what? All of it! Everything!” Platel gestured wildly. “Making moon eyes at each other like teenagers, grabbing at each other…” He jabbed the elf hard in the neck. “The fucking marks all over your neck!”

Cassiel slapped his hand away angrily. “Of course I got marks, we do fuck sometimes!” he snarled. He huffed, baring his teeth. “So, what, I was supposed to hide it?” he continued, words heated. “I was supposed to pretend Dorian and I are just friends? Acquaintances? Were you hoping I just wouldn’t bring him along at all? Was that the only way you could accept it, if I made it out as if Dorian doesn’t fucking exist?”

“This is how you’ve always been!” Platel shouted at him. Cassiel glared back at him. “Even with Breele, you never paid any attention to what I was feeling, what I was thinking!”

“What are you talking about?” Cassiel said in exasperation. “Breele?”

“You never acted that way around me!” Platel snapped, pointing sharply toward the tavern. “Only with Breele, only with the fucking tevinter!”

“Acted like _what_?”

“Like you were happy!” he shouted, practically spitting the words at him. Cassiel just stared at him in confusion. “Even with Breele, I always knew it was different, I always knew he meant more to you, that you cared more about him than - ”

“I was with Breele for eight years by the time you and I partnered!” 

“And him?” Platel gestured behind him again. “You’ve not even been with him a year!”

Cassiel just stared at him in bewilderment. He didn’t even know what Platel was angry about anymore. “For gods’ sake Platel, do I have to make an excuse for being _happy_ now?” Cassiel said in frustration. “Am I not allowed to move on with my life? You did! You got married!” Platel threw his hands up in the air, turning away. Cassiel wanted to scream in frustration. “Just tell me what your fucking problem is!” he snarled. 

“You said we were equal!” Platel said angrily, turning back to the elf. “You, and me, and Breele. But it was _never_ equal, it was never the same! You always loved him more, and he loved you more, and you never even fucking _noticed_ how much that hurt.”

“Why does it always come back to this? Why do you always have to compare yourself to Breele?” Cassiel felt his heart burning with a sick pain. “If I was a shitty partner, why are you even hounding me after all this time?”

“Because I _loved_ you!” Platel spat. “With everything I had, with everything in my heart. And it still hurts knowing the only reason you even _wanted_ me was because I would fuck you and Breele wouldn’t!”

Cassiel felt his temper snap. He lunged, shoving the elf to the ground angrily. Behind him he heard his name being shouted, but he paid it no mind, glaring down at Platel. The elf pushed himself up on his elbows, but froze when he saw Cassiel’s expression. 

“Listen here, you pathetic elf,” Cassiel hissed. He felt a hand grabbing his shoulder, and shoved them off without looking. His temper was boiling over, lacing his words with heated poison. “I was with Breele for ten years without sex, without ever having sex, and I was fucking _happy_ to be with him. I was happy to be my entire life without it. Because Breele was an amazing man and I could not have given less of a shit that he wouldn’t have sex with me. Shut the fuck up!” he shouted when Platel opened his mouth. “I always hated how you treated sex like a fucking gift you were giving me! Like it was something I ever felt I was missing! As if Breele was flawed and I needed someone to make up for it!”

“I wasn’t blaming Breele…” Platel mumbled. Cassiel felt his hackles rise. 

“You don’t even think enough of me to think I would have partnered you for reasons other than fucking. If our relationship was shallow, then maybe it was because all you ever saw in me was a sexual outlet!” 

“That isn’t true!” Platel protested, but Cassiel overrode him again. 

“And then when Breele finally _did_ want to have sex with me, we knew we couldn’t fucking tell you. Because then you would want to be involved, to be included, because you would never have understood that every little bit Breele gave me was a true gift because it came from his _heart_ , because it was love and we wanted a family and we had _no idea how to tell you_ because you weren’t involved!” Cassiel wasn’t even sure he was making sense anymore. His thoughts were running rampant, his words boiling over from years of frustration and repressed agony. “And when I left you, it was because I knew, I knew you’d expect me to keep on touching you and fucking you and I couldn’t fucking stomach it.” His words broke, voice shaking. “Not after what the bandits did to me.”

“Cassiel…” The soft voice came from behind him. He swallowed hard, realising he was crying, and had no idea when he had started. He pressed a hand over his eyes, snarling and sobbing and just wishing he was somewhere else, anywhere else. 

“Dorian, take him away from here.” That was Dia’s voice, shaky but stern. “I think we’re done here.”

Gentle hands took his arms, pulling him close. Cassiel knew it was Dorian. He didn’t resist as the mage guided him away, bringing his hood up over his face. 

*****

Dia watched the two go silently. Guilt crawled through her chest. She should have never brought Platel here. Never allowed any of this to happen. She closed her eyes, taking a long deep breath. 

“He could have told me…” Platel slowly picked himself up behind her. “I… I would have understood…”

“Enough.” Dia looked to the man, eyes flashing. “I didn’t bring you here to try and get him back. I brought you here to get closure. Now he is hurt, again.” Platel didn’t look at her, eyes on the ground. “We’re going back home once I’m sure he’s all right. You’re not speaking to him again. This is over.” She let out a long breath, turning back to where Cassiel had disappeared into the rain. “It was over a long time ago.”

“I didn’t want this,” Platel protested softly. Dia shook her head. 

“And yet, here we are.” She walked away, leaving the elf to figure himself out. 

*****

Cassiel barely remembered the walk to his room, keeping his head covered and just letting Dorian guide him along. It was almost a surprise when they stopped, Dorian letting go of his arm. 

“Leave them off,” he mumbled when Dorian lit a torch with his magic. He hunkered in on himself, walking to the foot of his bed and sitting down heavily on the floor. After a moment he heard the torch extinguish. He stared hard at his hands, loosely crossed in his lap, not looking up when Dorian knelt down in front of him.

“Amatus,” he said softly. Cassiel turned his head away when the mage’s gentle hand stroked down his cheek. 

“I told you I was a liar.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I tried to tell you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could just vanish into himself somehow. Dorian’s comforting hand stroking his face was almost too much to bear. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t. It was too much.”

“You aren’t obligated to tell me every detail of your life, amatus.” He took his chin, trying to raise the elf’s eyes to his, but Cassiel pulled away. He let him be, stroking down his neck. 

The two sat in silence for a long time, Cassiel keeping his eyes averted, Dorian running his hand over his cheek soothingly. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t ever wanted to face this again. It was though every nightmare in his life would always haunt him, would never truly leave him, that his past would never remain his past. 

“I’m sorry this is what it is to love the inquisitor,” Cassiel finally said. Dorian shook his head. 

“Don’t fall to self blame, amatus.”

“What else is there to blame?” He looked at the mage for one brief painful moment, turning away again. “Platel… What we had…” He shook his head slowly. “It was never going to last. I didn’t realise it back then. Maybe part of me did. He was so focused on what he could give me that Breele couldn’t… But that wasn’t what drew me to him.” He pulled in his knees, throwing his arms over them. “He was sweet, and genuine, and kind. Gentle. If he’d stayed that kind of a man…

“When… it all happened, I couldn’t face him anymore.” He pressed his palm to his eyes, letting out a shaking breath. “It felt like everything we’d had together had devolved to something so much… less. I could barely stomach seeing him long enough to give him back his ring.” He sighed, letting his hand drop. “Maybe a better man would have told him the truth. I don’t know. That’s not who I was. I can’t change that.”

Dorian squeezed his hand. Cassiel looked to him, forcing himself to meet the mage’s eyes. The pain in them was almost more than he could bear. He knew the man wasn’t thinking about Platel. Cassiel swallowed hard, wishing he could take back what he had said in the courtyard. Turn back time and refuse to ever meet up with Platel again. 

“Dorian,” he said softly. The mage watched him, waiting. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You haven’t,” he said. Cassiel looked away sharply. Dorian turned his chin back to him, this time not letting him pull free. “Listen,” he said softly. “I may not be an expert in relationships, but I know part of it is shouldering each other’s pain. You have shouldered mine. I will do the same for you.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” Cassiel grit his teeth, fingers clenching.

Dorian smiled, a slight curve of his lips. “I’m afraid you’re rather stuck with me, darling,” he said with a quiet humour. “I’m here until you send me away.”

Cassiel grasped at his hand, holding it tightly in his own. “I won’t,” he said fiercely. Dorian smiled wider, patting him on the cheek. 

“There’s that fire I love so dearly.” He leaned in carefully, kissing him softly when Cassiel didn’t pull away. “Now… what do you say we change out of these wet clothes? I don’t know about you, but I’m positively frozen.”

Cassiel hadn’t even noticed, but as soon as Dorian said it he began shivering. “I-I guess I’m a bit chilly,” he said with a shaky laugh. Dorian took his hands as he stood, helping the elf to his feet. Cassiel held his hands tightly, not letting him go quite yet. “Vhenan,” he said quietly. He looked to the mage. “What I said… What you heard… I don’t want you to treat me differently because of it. You’ve always been kind and gentle…”

Dorian chuckled, looking a little abashed. He leaned his forehead against his, Cassiel making a soft croon. “Don’t let people think I’m kind and gentle,” he scolded lightly, stroking his neck. “I’m supposed to be a fearsome corrupting magister. You will ruin my sterling reputation.”

Cassiel leaned into his arms, pressing to his chest. Dorian embraced him gently, kissing the top of his head. Cassiel bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut. “... Can I tell you, then?” He cleared his throat, feeling the mage hold him tighter. “If I tell you… will you stay and hear it?”

“Yes, amatus.” Dorian stroked down the back of his head. “Just promise me you won’t hide things for fear of my reaction.”

Cassiel swallowed hard. “... I promise,” he said shakily. He leaned back, tugging at his wet jacket. “Let’s change, and then… then I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.”


	14. Absolution

Morning found Dia nervously entering Skyhold’s castle. She had been to her brother’s room before, of course. Been taken there by him directly. That time had been with their entire family, a happy, joyous occasion. And she had been in quiet awe of the castle, and the soldiers saluting Cassiel as he passed. The amazing things he had done, all he had accomplished. Her little brother. 

She felt eyes on her as she walked through the grand hallway inside the entrance. Visiting human nobles, whispering to each other as they stared at her. She wondered if they knew who she was. The soldiers seemed to, nodding to her as she passed but ignoring her otherwise. She looked to the throne at the end of corridor, the sun’s light illuminating it. She had never seen Cassiel sit inside it. He told her he only sat there when he needed to deal with prisoners and criminals, and didn’t seem to take any pleasure in it. 

Dia stopped some distance from the throne, looking at it a while longer. Her brother had changed. Became a better, stronger person. And she had hurt him. Hurt him while foolishly thinking she could fix a several year old problem. She sighed, turning to the door that led to his quarters. 

She had always tried to protect him, always tried to keep him safe. It was her duty, as a warrior and an older sister. To guide, protect. But frankly, it had been impossible to keep Cassiel out of trouble. Trouble just seemed to find him, whether they liked it or not. Dangerous animals, dangerous people. Demons and god-like creatures. She wondered, not for the first time, if something out there was testing him. Wondered if there was a purpose to this all. 

Dia walked to his door, pushing it open after a moment’s hesitation. She had no idea if he could even hear a knock from this distance. She made her way down the short passage leading to the staircase to his room, still thinking to herself. Wondering how he was doing. Fearing the same hollow eyed stare she had come back to. 

She stopped at the foot of the stairs, hearing muffled voices above her. She cleared her throat. “Cassie?” she called. 

Her brother’s head poked over the railing after a moment, smirking when he saw her. “Dia!” he said, voice cheerful. “You’re just in time. Get up here.”

“By the Maker, amatus…” she heard Dorian mutter as she climbed the stairs. She chuckled when she saw the mage, standing in front of a vanity, the bottom half of his face covered in shaving cream. He looked at her in the reflection of the mirror, giving a small wave. “Glad to have an audience for the fascinating journey of shaving.”

“He’s so _precise_ , though,” Cassiel said, chuckling. Both of them were in their breeches and nothing else, Dia feeling a small twinge when she saw the old and new wounds covering her brother’s skin. Dorian clicked his tongue, wetting his razor in a basin of water. 

“Facial hair this immaculate requires precision, amatus,” he said, leaning into the mirror. Dia stepped next to him, watching curiously as he ever-so-carefully scraped away at his chin. He flicked a glance to her, rolling his eyes. “Are all elves this fascinated with shaving?”

“No, I’ve just never seen your hair this messy,” Dia commented, smirking. Cassiel laughed, Dorian making a dramatic sigh. 

“He takes an eternity to get ready in the morning,” Cassiel said, grinning. “Preening his hair and his moustache and scrubbing every inch of skin. He’s a lot like Breele in that regard.”

Dorian tutted, shaking his head slightly. “It’s unfortunate to know that ten years with him still couldn’t convince you to maintain proper hygiene.”

“Proper hygiene! You would think I was covered in fleas and filth, the way he talks.” Cassiel gestured to Dia to follow him, nodding to the balcony. “C’mon, let’s give my darling prince some space. He gets grumpy if he can’t complete his morning routine.”

Dia followed Cassiel out onto the stone balcony, closing the glass doors behind them. Cassiel shivered when the early morning chill hit him, crossing his arms. “Guess I should have grabbed my coat,” he said in amusement. Dia watched him curiously. 

“I’m glad you see you’re feeling better, Cassie,” Dia said, leaning on the railing. She looked out over Skyhold. They were overlooking the courtyard from here, and it looked beautiful in the morning sun. “I have to admit… I was worried about you.”

Cassiel nodded, leaning back against the wall before jerking away sharply. “Balls, everything is cold right now,” he cursed. He looked back to Dia. “And… I know. I’m glad you came by. Not just so you could see Dorian shave.” Dia chuckled. Cassiel looked out toward the mountains. “What I said,” he continued, voice soft. “... I don’t want everyone to know. Some of them do, already. The scouts who found me. The keeper. No one else needs to know. Is that all right?”

Dia nodded slowly. She looked to her brother. “Cassie, why didn’t you ever tell us any of this?”

Cassiel let out a long breath. “I guess it wasn’t just about blame or forgiveness,” he said. “For me, there was no fixing anything that happened. The best I could do was minimise the damage. The way everyone looked at me while I was healing, how people spoke to me… The clan was grieving. To know the details, to know how it was all tearing at me, it just felt like too much. As for Platel…” Cassiel shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wanted it all to be gone, as quickly and cleanly as possible.”

Dia watched his face carefully. Distant, but not hollow. Thoughtful. He really was doing better. Dia smiled, a small smile. “He’d be proud of you,” she said. Cassiel looked to her. “Breele, I mean. To see how far you’ve come.”

Cassiel glanced away, looking to the ground then back out over the mountains. “It took me a long time,” he said softly. Dia patted him on the arm. 

“Maybe it needed to. You’re still here. Still the bloody inquisitor.” She gestured back inside his room. “Still with that fancy peacock you call a partner.”

Cassiel grinned, eyes turning back to her. “That part is rather nice,” he said with a chuckle. He let out a long breath, still smiling. “He’s… not like Breele. At all. They’re like night and day. But his heart fits mine. He’d hate to hear me saying things like this,” he added, laughing. “Syrupy, he calls it. I think… we can make things work.” Cassiel made a face, ears tipping back. “Despite the differences, and the difficulties of our lives. He wants this to work, and so do I.”

“I’m sure you will, then.” Dia looked up when the glass door opened. Dorian came out with a scowl on his face and a housecoat in his hands, throwing it over her brother’s shoulders. Dia was tickled to notice the mage wore a matching robe.

“You would just stand out here in your skin,” he fussed, tying it shut. Cassiel grinned at him innocently, laughing again when the mage pinched one of his ears. “What am I tell everyone when you get ill? That the all-powerful inquisitor was too foolish to wear anything more than his breeches in the freezing cold?”

“You look very handsome right now, vhenan,” Cassiel said, running a hand down his shaven cheek. Dorian grinned, gently rubbing his pointed ear. 

“Of course I do, you silly elf,” he chided, kissing him on the cheek. He looked to Dia, sighing and shaking his head. “I will worry myself grey over this man, I swear.”

Dia nodded, smiling. “Yes, you will,” she agreed, sighing inwardly at the way the two looked at each other. So happy. So comfortable with each other. Cassiel gave him a quick kiss, stroking down his neck.

“Give me a few more minutes with my sister?” he asked gently. He tugged at his housecoat. “Now that I’m _safe_.”

Dorian chuckled, rubbing his head roughly and stepping back inside their room. Cassiel turned away, leaning over the railing. 

“Platel…” he started quietly. Dia shook her head. 

“He’ll be leaving with me tomorrow. I told him not to talk to you. I doubt he would have tried anyway, by this point.” She looked to her brother, seeing the hard look on his face. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t tell everyone what you said either.”

“Thank you,” Cassiel said. He straightened, crossing his arms again. “I don’t blame you, Dia, if that worries you,” he continued after a moment. “Platel made his own mistakes and his own fuck-ups. So did I, really. But I’m…” He let out a breath, shaking his head. “I don’t know. It’s been so long, so many years. I’m tired of hating myself and blaming myself. And Dorian…” He glanced to the closed glass doors for a moment. “He helps me… I can talk to him and he lets me face it all. He never ignores it or pretends it didn’t happen. We’re facing it together.” He smiled a bit, letting out a soft breath. “I think, this time, I’ll be okay. It’s always gonna be hard… but I’m not alone.”

Dia rubbed his back, smiling. Memories flashed in her head, one after another. Of her brother with Breele, smiling and happy. His hollow face when the poor elf died. Cassiel in a drunken stupor, rambling for the first time in years about his dark thoughts. And now this, his eyes finally calm, at peace. She believed him. She knew this time he would be all right. 

“So you’re leaving tomorrow, then?” Cassiel asked, turning to her. She nodded. He smiled a little. “How about we try dinner again before you leave? Just the three of us this time.” He made a face. “I can have something brought up to my quarters this evening so we aren’t all stared at. I’m sure the commotion Platel and I made is the talk of Skyhold right now.”

Dia chuckled at his wry voice. “I don’t know how you deal with it, Cassie,” she said in amusement. “The constant whispering and stares. It would drive me insane.”

He smirked. “Oh, it used to. Dorian helped me find the humour in being a pariah.” He turned, pushing the glass doors open. He grimaced when the mage came out of the bathroom. “Oh gods, I’m not getting a bath am I?”

“You absolutely are. You’ve not properly cleaned yourself since before you left for those ruins, and I will not tolerate sharing a bed with a filthy man.” Dorian took him in his arms, chuckling when Cassiel squirmed away from his kiss. “Honestly, it’s like bathing a cat, I swear.”

Dia laughed at Cassiel’s melodramatic response, shaking her head. “I’ll leave you two to it then,” she said, still chuckling. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Don’t abandon me in my time of need, Dia,” Cassiel pleaded. She laughed again, patting him on the shoulder and making her way down the stairs. 

Yes, he’d be all right. Her heart felt eased for the first time in years.


End file.
